Broken Together
by Almarinda
Summary: A story of picking up and moving on after the war...of how things might have been for the Trio and George if Severus had lived. Would Severus befriend the one who saved him? What would life be like after the war and how would they go about putting things back together? Canon compliant...except Snape lives! Eventual HG/SS
1. Howling Memories

**CHAPTER 1: Howling Memories**

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*I don't own these characters or the stories they belong to.

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 **"No one ever told me that grief felt so like fear."**

 **C.S. Lewis, A Grief Observed**

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The horrors of the day were prowling at the edge of her mind like a pack of ravenous wolves. Hermione knew she wasn't equal to the thoughts that plagued her - if she sat down to process, they would devour her. For now, it was enough to know that Riddle was defeated, and she, Harry, and Ron were alive.

There was a developing lull that she couldn't take part in. The fallen and injured had been retrieved and all that remained to rebuild and recover would wait the coming days. Everyone was now taking a collective breath. They sat in quiet groups, taking stock of the cost, rejoicing in what remained, and resting from their toil. Hermione, however, was a bit desperate to keep going, to put off dealing for just a while longer. She was beginning to sense the cost of holding it together for so long. When it all caught up with her, it would be ugly, and she didn't want to do ugly yet. Not here. Not now. Not in front of everyone.

Besides, there was something important that needed to be done and soon. Hermione's thoughts turned to the unrecognized hero who lay under a stasis charm on the floor of the Shrieking Shack. She had been intent on saving Professor Snape even before the contents of his memories had been revealed among the three of them, but now, after learning the truth and witnessing Harry's closing talk with Dumbledore, her need to act was becoming urgent.

She and Harry sent Ron off to his family after Hermione disclosed her intent. With the grief of Fred's loss, they needed each other right now. It was a sign of how broken Ron was, and perhaps of how little he relished the upcoming task that he accepted a hug from them both and departed without argument.

Hermione could see the hope that entered Harry's green eyes, and the relief of having something besides grief to focus on. She suspected that he was in the same condition: not ready to fall apart yet, trying to hold it off for later.

When Hermione turned to the Dumbledore's portrait, presented her plan to the former Headmaster and requested his help, she encountered a level of hesitation from the long bearded man that she had not expected.

"Sir, if there is any way to do it, I would help Professor Snape," she rejoined. "I already have the vial of phoenix tears that I summoned from your office in preparation for this year."

Harry looked at her with astonishment. It somehow made his mop of black hair look even more disheveled.

Dumbledore's eyes twinkled beneath his half-moon spectacles in merriment. "Very industrious of you," he said, and then his face turned grave. "It was a horrible thing Professor Snape suffered at the hands of Tom Riddle. I'm very sorry to hear of it. I know, however, that when Severus last left this office, he was willing to pay the ultimate price."

'Just because he was willing to doesn't mean he wanted to pay with his life,' Hermione thought, wondering at Dumbledore's reticence. "Please, sir. Surely he is worthy and worth saving if it's possible to do so," she pleaded.

A bit of a gleam appeared in Dumbledore's eyes. "Severus is, as you say, worthy and worth saving. He, like yourselves, has always given more than anyone had a right to ask." He paused a moment, looking quite sad. "You are aware, perhaps, that his life has been a tragic and unhappy one. I regret my part in his burden, and all that I had to ask of him. It was necessary, but I regret it all the same. I too wish a chance for him to have all that has so far been denied him in life...yet I cannot tell you which he would wish more, to struggle for that chance, or to embrace the next great adventure..."

Eventually Dumbledore, perhaps reading the genuine concern and determination on Hermione's face, settled on a decision, and though he proceeded with due seriousness, Hermione detected a hint of joy and perhaps a bit of mischief it the twinkle that re-entered his eyes.

"Very well. We shall proceed if you are certain of your course?" Dumbledore queried, training his bright blue eyes at them over his spectacles with his customary soul-reading manner.

When Harry and Hermione confirmed their intent to save, aid and guard Severus Snape, they quickly ironed out the finer points of the plan and set the wheels in motion.

Dumbledore issued a final word of advice before they departed for their separate tasks. "Severus can be rather difficult to deal with, which I am sure you will find no surprise, but your persistence and patience, I hope, will pay off. He is, as you said, worth your efforts. I myself found that nothing undermined his dour, sharp wit so well as determined good cheer."

Hermione hoped that determined good cheer would be enough.

The scene in the Shrieking Shack was no less gruesome than when last Hermione had been there. Professor Snape lay slumped on the floor, his lank limbs and long black hair akimbo, in an alarmingly large puddle of blood. The flat black of his unseeing eyes and the pallor of his tear stained face made him appear…well, it was horrible. Hermione's hands shook as she withdrew the vial of phoenix tears from the beaded handbag and peeled back his many layers of black robes and white shirt to reveal the damage. There were more bite marks than she had imagined, and his gaunt frame revealed that he had suffered in the last year as they had. Nothing but the miraculous healing powers of phoenix tears could counteract this level of damage and deprivation. She wondered briefly if Dumbledore had planned for this when he collected the tears from Fawkes. It wouldn't really surprise her if she discovered later that this was, in fact, the case.

When she was in a charitable mood, Hermione found herself in humbled awe of all that Dumbledore had done and planned for and took it as proof of his formidable genius. Much of the last year, however, she had thought the man's tactics rather insane as he had left a ridiculous lot to luck and it was truly an amazing and almost coincidental thing that it had actually turned out in the end. What if they hadn't escaped the Ministry, Godric's Hollow, Gringott's or the Malfoys? What if Harry hadn't taken Draco's wand? What if...There were so very many things that could have gone wrong at any stage of the precarious plan that it was terrifying to think about, even on this side of the outcome. Hermione hoped fervently that it would turn out miraculously well in the end for Professor Snape as well.

She checked the stasis charm she had inconspicuously placed on him immediately after Harry collected his memories. It held, which meant he still stood a chance if she did everything right. Prior to releasing the charm, she tried summoning potions, antivenin, and a bezoar from his robes as Dumbledore had instructed. Unsurprisingly, they came flying into her hands. Severus was a man likewise prepared.

What she couldn't decide was whether he had been too overcome to take the potions himself, if he had used up his last moments helping Harry rather than himself, or if he had purposefully not taken any measures to forestall his death. If the last was correct, it was likely she would have a very resentful and angry Professor Snape on her hands when he roused. Hermione decided he would just have to get over it if that was the case. She was determined he at least take the chance to grasp hold of all that had been denied him before. Doing everything she could to get him to the door of opportunity and helping him toward a better life was exactly the type of long term commitment she needed to keep herself going forward.

When Hermione set the saving measures in motion, it was a closer, more harrowing call than she had envisioned it would be. She was careful not to let her anxious tears dilute the precious ones from the vial. The phoenix tears did stop the bleeding that resumed as the stasis charm was lifted, but there weren't enough to completely close all the wounds. The bezoar and antivenin were barely a match for Nagini's venom, whether because it was especially potent or because it was tainted with dark magic, she wasn't sure. Hermione tried not to panic when Severus took a shuddering breath and breathed no more. Only the necessity of action saved her from it. Eventually, after several long minutes of rescue breaths, he resumed breathing on his own. He remained extremely pale and she gave him additional blood replenishing potion. This appeared to help, for he then began to feebly rouse, and even though she'd given him a potent pain-relieving potion, he looked like he was suffering horrific pain. Distraught, Hermione crooned words of comfort as she gave him dreamless sleep potion and charmed him into a healing sleep as quickly as she could.

Never in her life had Hermione been so thankful for the knowledge she'd gained from a book. Everard's Compendium: A Guide to Basic Mediwizardry, a book which she'd procured and stashed in the bag last summer, might now possibly vie with Hogwarts: A History for Best Book Ever.

Judging Professor Snape now stable enough for transport, Hermione had Kreacher apparate them to Grimmauld Place. Besides the anti-apparition spell within the house that the old elf could circumvent but she could not, Hermione felt too shaky and spent to apparate anywhere under her own power. When Harry and Professor McGonagall met them there, Hermione breathed a sigh of relief.

Hermione judged that her austere Head of House must have been companionable with Professor Snape before the horrors of the last year, for as she checked him over her eyes glistened with tears and her face reflected sorrow and regret. After Minerva finished her assessment, she helped them set up a makeshift hospital ward in the first floor sitting room, and promised to send Poppy Pomfrey once they had filled her in on the situation.

As the multitude of formidable protections, save fidelius, remained on the place, the fidelius charm was the only one that required recasting. This Professor McGonagall did whilst she was there, and this time Hermione was the secret keeper. Hermione wrote the address for Harry's house on a slip of parchment for them to give Madame Pomfrey and then bade Professor McGonagall and Harry a nervous goodbye.

Before leaving, Minerva squeezed Hermione's hand and said, "Thank you, dear girl. Send me word if you need anything."

Hermione was glad, for Professor Snape's sake, that they were not alone in supporting him and wishing for his good.


	2. Who Will You Be?

CHAPTER 2: Who Will You Be?

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 ****I don't own these characters or the stories they belong to****

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"There can be no reproach to pain unless we assume human dignity, there is no reason for restraints on pleasure unless we assume human worth, there is no legitimacy to monotony unless we assume a greater purpose to life, there is no purpose to life unless we assume design, death has no significance unless we seek what is everlasting."

Ravi Zacharias

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Standing on his own two feet, in his own power, Severus had resigned himself to his fate when the Dark Lord declared his life forfeit. And he almost welcomed his end. He hadn't, however, counted on this...diminishing, this oncoming tide of fear, sorrow and regret for not having finished his task. His occlumency shields were draining away just as surely as the life blood that flowed to the floor in iron scented rivulets, leaving him to fade from this world naked and alone, a mere shell of his former self.

Once his true pride, infallible strength and steadfast companions, those shields now abandoned him to a horde of specters and a swamp of emotions that had, for so long, been subdued beneath a construct of unfeeling calm. The venom-induced paralysis that weighted his limbs did nothing to stem panic as he struggled for life with every laborious breath. Feeling himself a fool, he succumbed in short order to self-pity, and the need for someone, anyone, to care.

Words assaulted him, dealt their mocking, accusing blows, and tore all that was left of him to shreds.

Used

Abused

Hated

Worthless

Discarded

Failure

He didn't know how long he lay bleeding to death on the floor like so much refuse. And why did it have to happen in the place he hated above almost all others? It could have been a handful of minutes, it could have been a handful of days; impossible to tell when the pain distorted and prolonged every moment.

When the trio came, Severus couldn't even summon loathing for the boy. He wept out his memories and actually took some measure of comfort from the unexpected look of sorrow and compassion on Harry's face. Would Lily have felt anything at his ignominious end? He could almost imagine it in the boy's eyes, could almost read Lily's forgiveness and absolution in the gaze of her son. And why not cling to this hope? It was all that was left to him.

To his horror, the darkness that followed was not the kind Severus longed for. It was not the soft, gentle night that dampened reality, soothed with a soft touch of magic in the air and hid you away in a blanket of shadows. No. This was the evil-hearted abyss that devoured with the torment of cold flame. This place reeked of the dark seductress that lured with promises in life...to fulfill your desires, to gift you with power...only to turn on you, defile you and swallow you whole.

Severus supposed his past entanglement with this realm had consigned him to its depths. He despaired. All his efforts to make amends, all his struggle for redemption was for naught. Pain, despair, and torment were the only things that existed here. If he had known this is what awaited him, Severus would never have been resigned and eager for death. If he had known his fascination with the denizens of the abyss would imprison him to this hellish abode, Severus would never have succumbed to their lure for even a second.

It was far too late now. His entire being was consumed by writhing flames as if fiendfyre coursed through his veins. It was as if he was tied to it - the unending pain. Fated to feel it, unable to scream, unable to move. Separated eternally from hope and love and light.

And then he felt himself swimming toward oblivion. If he could, Severus would have wept like a blubbering first-year Neville Longbottom with relief. Better not to be than to be here. Better to never have existed at all than to come back to this place ever again. He welcomed nothingness and prayed it would never end.

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Hermione let her mind wander back through the years as she took care of her hook-nosed, dark-haired patient. It was odd to see him so vulnerable, and it saddened her, especially when she remembered her part in how they had made life so much harder for him – not that he made it easy on himself. It was especially hard to recall her early years at Hogwarts, back when she had taken his nastiness and anger at face value. She had been frantic in her desperation to please and it made her cringe to think of it now.

Professor Snape had been the first of her teachers to thwart her in this regard. He wounded her pride and denigrated her first and only friends - frequently. In response, frustration and anger had taken charge, led her from her usual path of logic, and kept her from seeing that there was more to him than the brilliance and nastiness he projected. Professor Snape's earliest impressions of her had been formed when she was but one of the dunderheaded crowd who failed to see beyond their assumptions. No wonder he had never taken her for more than a walking, regurgitating encyclopedia. Hermione sighed. Everyone had their own foibles of youth to overcome, and that was hers, she supposed.

She found some comfort in the fact she'd begun to make changes at a fairly early age. At the end of their first year, it had come to light that Professor Snape had actually been acting, despite his obvious hatred for Harry, to save Harry's life throughout the year. This had been the turning point, the thing that caused Hermione to stop and reconsider. It was true that Harry, by that point, hated Professor Snape as much as Professor Snape had ever hated Harry, but it hadn't always been so. Once upon a time, Harry had merely been curious about the man and eager to learn from him. Professor Snape was the one who initiated their enmity-laden relationship with a wholly unreasonable opening salvo. Upon considering this, Hermione was forced to conclude that Professor Snape's hatred of Harry had more to do with Professor Snape than it had to do with Harry.

There was a conversation from North and South that always came to mind when Hermione thought about Professor Snape's behavior. The brother, seeing tall, dark Mr. Thornton exclaims, "What a scowl that man has! A most disagreeable fellow I'm sure." And Margaret answers, "As with most men, something has happened to make him scowl. Don't judge him too harshly, Fred." *

There were definitely parallels to be drawn there. As early as their second year, Hermione considered that Professor Snape either had some past hurt coming into play, which if that were the case likely had to do with Harry's parents given their similar age, or there was some other motivation that she didn't fully understand, but given the events of the last year, likely had to do with Voldemort. It wasn't until now, at the end of it all, with all that they'd learned through the years and the explanation given by Professor Snape's memories, that she finally understood how correct her deductions had been. It made her glad that she hadn't jumped onto the Snape-is-evil bandwagon with Ron and Harry after that first year, that she had taken pains to be respectful and had tried to see beneath the cloak of anger that Professor Snape wore. He still managed to anger her plenty, but she had tried, and the more she brought consideration to bear, the easier it became to overcome and see beyond.

Not that her efforts made much difference with regards to the man himself. Hermione had the sense that most of the time she was lumped in with the indignant, disrespectful, and, therefore, hated-all-the-more Ron and Harry as far as he was concerned. The times she did manage to stand apart with overtures of friendly respect, Professor Snape either glowered at her or gazed at her with an unreadable expression which could have meant ' _What game are you playing_?' or ' _You bore me, go away_ ,' for all she knew. Once, Hermione thought she'd detected confusion in his expression. Through it all, whether she was well meaning at the time or not, whether guilty or not, his intense onyx gaze never failed to startle and unsettle her.

Even had she never progressed in her opinion of Professor Snape during those years at school, her blindness would have been cured irrevocably by all that they had seen and learned of him in the night. It had been a horrible thing to watch, Riddle's attempt to execute him. Her heart went out to him, and though she felt the debt of all they owed him, Hermione found she admired him and genuinely wished for his happiness. She certainly bore him no ill will now. Though it was, she conceded, easier to say that as he lay in a comatose state than it would be when confronted by his anger. She adopted a start-as-you-mean-to-go-on attitude as she cared for him and could only hope that when he woke up, he would be more accepting of them. She would do her well-meaning best; the rest would be up to him. It would be wonderful if he reciprocated in kind, or even if he managed tolerance, but if he didn't, dreadful and harrowing as the prospect was, she would carry on all the same.

Hermione's reverie was interrupted by the sound of Harry's voice.

"Hermione, have you slept at all? You look done in," he said.

' _Well, I feel rather done in,_ ' was on the tip of her tongue to answer, but Hermione espied Madame Pomfrey's sharp gaze upon her as the formidable Medi-Witch entered the room with Harry. "Um. Yes, I got a few hours and set an alarm so I could check on him and give him fluids and potions every few hours. I had to learn to spell fluids into his stomach. He started running a high fever a few hours ago."

Madame Pomfrey humphed, but her critical gaze slid from Hermione to Severus. She began running diagnostics and working over him. After a while, she turned her attention back to Hermione.

"You've done well, Miss Granger. The high fever is due to the venom. Rather potent venom that snake had. We're all glad Mr. Longbottom put an end to that particular menace."

Madame Pomfrey withdrew a vial from her bag. "I raided his personal stores and found this. One last vial of the antivenin. I presume you found one to administer already? Else I doubt he'd still be with us."

Hermione answered in the affirmative, and as Poppy gave Professor Snape the last dose of antivenin, she explained the potions she'd found in his robes and reported all the care that she'd given him thus far.

"For someone with no training, you've done very well," Poppy praised in her matter of fact manner. "Well, since you've been putting fluids in, they must come out. You've learned how to spell things in, have you learned how to spell them out, or have you been cleaning him up?"

Hermione caught Harry's eye. He looked as mortified as she felt. "Um, I had Kreacher clean him and help change the sheets once. I've been learning the removal spells," Hermione pointed to the Compendium, "but I was afraid to try them on him or practice them on anyone without supervision."

"Very sensible of you," Poppy said. She had Hermione show her what she'd learned and then said. "Right. Why don't you practice on Mr. Potter...Harry, dear, do you mind?"

"What?" Harry said looking alarmed.

"Oh, don't worry, boy. I'm right here, and I can fix any mishaps. It's quite all right. I wouldn't normally, but circumstances being what they are," Poppy chided.

"Um, okay," Harry said. Unsurprisingly, Madame Pomfrey's assurances did not appear to have assured him overmuch.

Poppy nodded. "Lie down on the couch, then, and be sure to be very still."

Harry complied. When he had laid down, he scrunched his eyes closed and stiffened with a pose that looked as if he'd been hit with petrification spell

Poppy nodded at Hermione to go ahead, wearing the barest hint of a smirk as she did so. While Hermione could recognize the humor of Harry's actions, she was too nervous to express amusement. Relief flooded her when she performed the spells without mishap.

Harry was a little pale when he sat up. "That felt weird," he mumbled.

Poppy smirked outright at that. "Yes, it would." She returned to her bag. "Here are more blood replenisher, pain, and fever reducing potions, nutrient potions, a healing salve that will prevent infection, and bandages. I'm afraid there aren't many potions or salves left in the aftermath...I would be asking him to brew more if he were able..." Poppy nodded at Severus and sighed. "You did well to put him in a healing sleep. The fever will take a few days to abate as his body works the venom out of his system. Even with the healing sleep, fever and pain potions, it's likely he'll be experiencing pain during that time."

"In about four days or so it should be time to remove the sleep charm. He'll be an extremely difficult patient and I'd be surprised if he didn't do something to undo all your hard work to put him back together. Manage him the best you're able; knock him out and send for me if you have to. The longer the removal spells are used the more difficult it is to regain normal function, so let him up to the toilet when he asks, but until he's steady on his feet and the wounds are healed, he is not to go without assistance, either the elf apparating him there or one of you helping him walk there."

Harry and Hermione looked daunted at the prospect of getting Professor Snape to go along with his care regimen.

"I know," Poppy said. "You'll need thick skin, a stiff spine and plenty of stubborn. Don't back down from him or let him get to you. I wish for his recovery more than anyone...the things he's suffered...but I know exactly how difficult he is to take care of. Impossible man." Poppy shook her head as she looked at Severus then turned to face them again with an expression of mild glee. "At least you'll have a chance to stuff him with calories while he's unconscious. The man doesn't eat enough by half. Give him at least six nutrient potions a day...those I should be able to get a hold of...and four or so 8-ounce milkshakes with protein powder a day besides. It'll help him gain weight and heal."

"If we have the ingredients, I'm certain I could manage to brew the blood replenishers, fever and pain reducing potions he needs so we don't have to tax your stores," Hermione offered.

Poppy looked at her. "And how are you going to take care of him if you wear yourself ragged, girl? You already look done in and you've barely begun."

Hermione tried to summon defiance, but she was rather knackered. Harry stepped up. "I'll help and make sure she gets rest, Madame Pomfrey. Professor McGonagall can fill Kingsley in and send him here to debrief us or whatever it is he wanted to do."

"Very good," Poppy said. "Off to sleep with you then. At least eight hours, uninterrupted if possible. In fact, take a nutrient potion and dreamless sleep...there you go."

Hermione followed her marching orders and trudged off to a bedroom just down the hall, wondering what version of her patient she would face when he woke up. She heard Poppy giving Harry instructions on potions and care and trusted that between Poppy's instructions and Kreacher's help, Severus would survive her eight hours sleep.

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*from North and South by Elizabeth Gaskell. These lines were actually taken from the movie - they just fit better.


	3. How to Go On

CHAPTER 3: How to Go On

 **** I don't own these characters or the stories they belong to****

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"If you can't fly then run, if you can't run then walk, if you can't walk then crawl, but whatever you do you have to keep moving forward."

Martin Luther King, Jr.

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Hermione awoke with a feeling of disorientation and possibly the worst case of cotton mouth she'd ever had. Admittedly, she felt better but refreshed wasn't a word she'd apply to herself just now. Her sleep had been much needed and blessedly free from specters, but it felt artificial somehow...medicated. Dreamless Sleep potion, she decided, didn't deliver the bliss implied in its name. Also, she had gone to bed still wearing the grime she'd acquired in the battle, and it was impossible to feel refreshed when one felt gritty. She didn't even want to know what her unkempt, bushy hair looked like, but it had been a while since she'd been fussed over much about something like that, so she tied it back by feel and headed down the hall to check on Harry and Professor Snape after brushing her teeth.

"Alright, Hermione?" Harry asked when he saw her.

"Better, thanks, Harry. How'd everything go? Any problems?" she asked.

"Just fine," he answered. "Still running a fever. No change really. I've managed spelling in the fluids and potions and things, but would you do the spelling out bit?"

Hermione felt Professor Snape's forehead with the back of her hand and ran a diagnostic charm. He was definitely still feverish, but not critically so. As she did the "spelling out bit" Harry told her that Kingsley had sent a note and was coming over to have dinner and talk with them in an about an hour.

"Mind if I grab a shower, Harry? I'm still wearing battle grit," she asked him making a face.

"Sure. I'll keep an eye on him." Harry looked around Grimmauld Place with more cheer than he'd ever done before. "It's still a bit dreary here, but it's loads better than the tent, huh? Actual showers. And a way to do laundry...and food. I managed a shower at Hogwarts but had to make do with a cleaning spell for these," he indicated his rather tattered jeans and jumper. "Why don't you drag all the clothes out of that beaded bag of yours and I'll have Kreacher clean them for us? Not that anything in there is much better, but still. We're gonna have to go shopping soon...especially for the funerals." Harry finished much more glum than he had begun.

"Shopping...Surreal, isn't it?" she asked Harry. "I mean yesterday...was that just yesterday?...and then today we're talking about shopping." Hermione smiled at him as she dug the clothes out of her bag and put them in a pile on the floor. "It's a good thing Harry...a sign that we won, and that however broken things are, good survived and we'll find our way back to normal. And I'll not complain about a list of things to do. I've the feeling that if I stop...If I have too much time on my hands...well, I'm afraid it'll all really catch up with me, and I can't afford for that to happen yet."

"I know what you mean," Harry said, giving her a look that spoke volumes of acknowledgment and acceptance. "Shopping, then. Good. Not my favorite thing...but good." They shared smirks and Hermione made her way to the shower with the least worn clothes she could scavenge from the beaded bag.

The shower was steaming hot and heavenly. The tent had what could technically be called a shower, but a tepid, misty, drip was the most it ever managed, and in a tent that was already chilly, they'd frequently opted for sponge baths and a hair wash in the sink. This shower felt wonderful, as if a year's worth of grime was washing away and spiraling its way down the drain. Unfortunately, the runnels of water cascading down her body didn't wash the trauma and painful memories away as well, but she stayed in long enough to give it a try anyhow. She might have, in fact, attempted to live beneath the muscle-massaging water had Kingsley not been expected.

Hermione finally forced herself to leave the shower and towel herself dry. Two additional applications of the cleansing charm notwithstanding, it was dissatisfying in the extreme to put on a pair of unlaundered, bedraggled clothes.

A familiar bald-headed black man with a gold earring was in the sitting room when Hermione made her way down the hall. He greeted her with a smile and a warm hug. Every embrace of the kind was an acknowledgment: I'm glad you're alive. In a way, it was too overwhelming...that beat of rest and acceptance that had been denied them for so long. But part of her also hoped the grateful embraces never stopped...she never wanted to take the blessing of a friend or comrade for granted again.

"Congratulations on your appointment, Kingsley," Hermione said. "We've needed someone good for so long now, and I'm so glad it's you. I worry for you - it's bound to be difficult with all there is to do and rebuild, but I can't think of anyone better for the job." Hermione raised her arm toward Severus, "My commitment is here for now, but I pledge you what help I can, if you need it."

Kingsley gave her a huge smile. "I'm honored and accept gladly, Hermione. Many have earned my thanks and regard, but you three, and it seems Severus, are at the top of the list. I pledge you my help and support as well. Whatever our public roles become, I hope to be counted among your friends in truth."

Hermione's smile was a bit watery. "That means a lot, Kingsley, thank you! I'm not looking forward to the public role playing one bit, but I'm grateful for your honest friendship."

Harry laughed. "Just so you know, friendship with Hermione entails a great deal of...um, keeping you on track on her part. We wouldn't have survived our first year or any of the last one without her, but we weren't always the most appreciative of her...um instructions."

Hermione gave him a wry look. "I've always known you have more tact than Ronald, Harry. Even his new and improved self would never have tried so hard to avoid the word 'nagging'."

Kingsley chuckled a deep laugh. "Those kinds of friends are the most rare and valuable, Harry. The ones who care about you enough to tell you the truth even when you don't want to hear it. I shall be doubly glad of that kind of friendship in the days and years to come."

"See, Harry. You're lucky to have me," she grinned. "I only hope I can convince him," she added more seriously as she checked over Professor Snape again.

Harry gave her a side hug. "Well, we'll just see what happens, won't we? I don't expect it'll happen right away, but if anyone can out stubborn him, it's you."

Hermione finished running diagnostics, giving potions and mopping Severus' brow. She looked up at Kingsley and said, "Harry mentioned you were debriefing or something of the sort. Is that why you've come for a visit this evening?"

"It is. We're collecting everyone's stories to make sure we get an accurate picture of what happened...so we can remember, bestow honors, dispense justice, and take measures to prevent something like this from happening again. It's your stories I've been most anxious to hear."

Kreacher called them to dinner and after they'd chatted and eaten their fill, they began to talk in earnest. It was Harry that started it.

"Kings, you all knew Professor Dumbledore entrusted us with information and a task. Whatever guesses you came up with, no one except Dumbledore and we three know the full extent of it. We couldn't take the risk of Riddle figuring out what we were up to, the steps we were taking to make him mortal again, and the details of what he did could be just as dangerous in the wrong hands now. I trusted you with Severus and his memories before he's officially cleared, and now I'll trust you with everything else. I know you trusted Dumbledore's judgment, and I hope you'll follow his request for secrecy in this. You'll have the facts to help make decisions and can decide what to disclose and how. When he's ready, I'll entrust Severus with the same information...he was so integral with it anyhow...and I plan on telling Neville…I know he can keep it under wraps and I feel like he has a right to know, but that's as far as I think it should go."

Kingsley nodded gravely and took out parchment and a quill. "Some people reported hearing you say 'there are no more Horcruxes,' to Riddle in the final duel. It was Horcruxes, wasn't it? More than one?" he asked as if wishing to hear that he was wrong.

"Yes," Hermione said. "Seven of them."

"Seven!?" Kingsley exclaimed

"And I was one," Harry said.

"You..were...what?...how?" Kingsley asked weakly, dropping the quill.

"Do you have time for a long story? I think I should start at the beginning. Dumbledore spent all of his last year teaching me everything he knew about Riddle, showing me all the memories he'd collected. I'll start with what I know if you've the time."

"I think I'd better hear it," Kingsley said.

They settled in the sitting room. It took a long time, but they filled Kingsley in on everything they'd learned about Riddle and the Horcruxes, about Severus and the Marauders when they were in school, about Harry's relatives and all the adventures they'd had during their own school years, Professor Snape's true role in the scheme of things, their hunt for the Horcruxes and the Deathly Hallows, and finally their actions during the last battle.

Kingsley looked wrung out and done in by all that he'd learned in the course of the evening. "I didn't know even half of that...see what you mean about not disclosing everything about the Horcruxes." He reviewed his notes, mumbling as he filled them in a bit. "I can't believe Dumbledore...and you were first and second years when the?...And the...time turner...and the cave, and the Hallows...how do we explain the Ministry and Gringotts without?"

Kingsley shook his head and his characteristic comforting and calm demeanor returned to him. "I'll say it again to anyone who asks: you three are heroes – the real deal - and have been for years. Everyone's going to be saying it anyhow; it's just too bad that most people won't ever know the true extent of it. We'll have to work out how to edit your statements of the last year, figure out what we should release to the public."

The look on Harry's face said plainly that his hero status could go unrecognized all together as far as he was concerned.

Hermione gave him a commiserating look and then scrunched her face. "I've thought about it, but it's a bit of a conundrum...how to explain some of what we did without the divulging too much about the Horcruxes. The best I could come up with was to be very vague about the specifics and fairly forthcoming with the broad gist. Enough detail to not be cagey, not detailed enough to give anyone an instruction manual. You know, say we were on a mission to gather information and counteract the steps Riddle took toward immortality without going into the specifics of what that information and those steps were. We could call the Horcruxes 'cursed objects' if we need to mention them at all."

"If anyone asks for more detail, say the Ministry has deemed the information dangerous and, therefore, classified. If anyone gets on the trail of the Horcruxes, acknowledge they were part of what was involved, but don't explain what they are or make it sound like it's the crux of the matter. Even the Death Eaters didn't know about them. Play up the Riddle aspect and some of what we learned of his past so everyone understands who he was and what led him down that path - that should further disenfranchise any remaining closet followers. Most of them don't have a clue about who he really was. Downplay the self-fashioned Lord Voldemort construct - deny him the god-like status he aspired to. What do you think?" she asked.

Harry and Kingsley both nodded. Kingsley said, "I believe you're right...going to need documented statements we can use, editing of Severus' memories and the right people in news dissemination," Kingsley rattled off as he jotted down a list.

"I'll work with you on writing our official statements if you wish," Hermione offered. "Maybe Harry could carry documents between us when you're unable to come here?"

"Sure," said Harry, "Sounds good."

When Kingsley had gone, Hermione stood by Harry. "You remember those old World War Two posters: Keep Calm and Carry On?" she asked. "Sometimes it's remarkable how much Wizarding Britain has in common with its Muggle counterpart, don't you think?"


	4. Being Honest

CHAPTER 4: Being Honest

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 **** I don't own these characters or the stories they belong to****

* * *

 **"Scars remind us where we've been. They don't have to dictate where we're going"**

 **Agent David Rossi in Criminal Minds**

H~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It had been a busy and a harrowing few days for both of them, Hermione thought as she went through the routine of Severus' wound care. Somehow, within the space of four days, her and Harry's statements were written, the potions for Severus were brewed, dress robes and a few other clothes were bought, and they had attended Fred, Remus & Tonks' funerals. Harry was intent on attending them all. Hermione wasn't sure if she could've handled that even had she able to attend, and was somewhat glad that her current responsibilities kept her from making the attempt.

Professor McGonagall had come by for a visit to see them and to check on Severus. She was really miffed at Dumbledore, whose portrait had apparently been getting an earful, for what he'd forced Severus to do and most especially for not letting her in on the plan. She was determined to make amends and to help Severus, and like Hermione, she planned to do this whether he wanted it or not. Also, she had sent an additional two house elves to care for him while Hermione attended the three funerals that were most important to her.

As the time drew near to release the healing sleep spell, Hermione was increasingly glad to have Professor McGonagall and Poppy Pomfrey as kindred spirits in this thing. Caring for and worrying over Professor Snape had given her a familiarity and regard for him that he was little likely to return, seeing as he had been unaware all of that time. "Start as you mean to go on" was a mantra she kept repeating to herself, and "Whatever comes, just carry on." Hermione was a bit nervous about how his awakening would play out, but mostly she was exhausted, physically and mentally, and she suspected the same of Harry.

Many terrible things had happened in the war...too many to count...but to Hermione...Remus, Tonks, and Fred were the most inconsolable losses. Yesterday had been hard. No matter how you try to make it about a celebration of life, however much you try to cling to the good memories, the hole left in your life is gaping and raw. Harry had learned a lot about losing loved ones, and his words brought the most comfort: " _The ones you love never really leave you. You carry them with you, and when your turn comes to embark on the next great adventure, you'll find them there, waiting on you._ " It still nearly shut her down to think of George without Fred, to think of Teddy growing up without experiencing the wonderful people that Remus and Tonks were.

Harry looked haggard when he returned from his visit at the Weasleys. Hermione didn't have to ask why.

"Alright, Harry?" she queried instead. It was a stupid question. Of course he wasn't alright. But it was their way of greeting and checking up on each other. They'd learned to be honest. If they couldn't tell each other the truth, who could they tell? Too much was waiting to catch up with them already, why add to it by holding more in?

"Not so much," Harry answered. "As good as it is to see them, it's still horrible. I don't think it's helping George that every time Molly sees him after stepping away for a bit, she loses it all over again, or that everyone is both trying to remember Fred and not say his name in front of Molly and George. I've asked Ron and George to come stay. A bit of a break without leaving George on his own would be good, I think."

Hermione agreed. "That's a great idea, Harry. More company would be nice...and speaking of...it's time to lift the healing sleep spell. Poppy said it might take a day or so for him to come around, but just in case...I waited till you came home. Shall I?

Harry looked a little nervous at first and then resolved. He nodded at her. As she released the spell he asked, "Wonder if he'll choose to remain dead in the eyes of the world or shock them all by making a comeback?"

"I've been wondering the same thing. Which would you do?" Hermione asked as she ran a diagnostic spell and waited for signs of awakening.

"Not sure," Harry said. "I had the choice already...could've stayed wherever it was when I met Dumbledore...could've moved on, he said, but I came back for you guys and there was Riddle still to deal with...would've been a hard call otherwise. What about you?"

"I don't know," Hermione admitted.

They talked for a while more as they watched Severus, but no movement was forthcoming, and they eventually headed to bed. Hermione noticed small movements and sounds as she checked on her patient in the night, but Poppy had been right, and Severus slumbered on, unaware.

S~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Nothingness had come to an end. There were pains and a full body ache, but fiendfyre no longer raced through his veins. The visions that swam across the darkness were chaotic, strange and sometimes terrible, and the sounds that reached him were just as distorted and bewildering. Severus was at a loss to determine if the sensory input meant he was, in fact, alive, or if his consciousness had found its way to some schizophrenic circle of hell.

Just as the input reached a level that was alarming, another sensation was added to the mix. He felt something on his neck, and before a thought even registered, his body reacted to the pain and perceived danger. The sudden movement of his body and opening of his eyes startled Severus and made him conclude that yes, he must be alive.

"It's alright, sir, you're safe. Let her go," a voice said.

Severus blinked and tried to process through his befuddlement.

"Severus, let her go," the voice said with more command.

He finally realized that his hands were closed with a brutal grasp around someone's wrists...whose? The Granger girl...and terror was clear in her ragged breaths and wide brown eyes. Severus released his grasp as soon as this registered. She stumbled away, consumed still by blind panic, and Severus' questions regarding his own situation were forestalled by worry over what had happened. Had he done something besides grab her wrists? That level of fear suggested something terrible. Not that he hadn't ever seen or done terrible things before, but he never relished being the cause of them, and thus his worry.

Severus tried to rise but was held down by a firm hand on his shoulder. He turned and saw he was being held down by Harry Potter whose worried eyes were fixed on Miss Granger.

"Hermione?" the boy called.

Her eyes were still haunted and she didn't respond.

Potter swore under his breath. "Sir, I'm going to let you go, but don't try to move or sit up," Severus looked at him in question and opened his mouth to protest angrily, but the boy cut him short. "Don't try to talk either. You've got wounds that might reopen if you do, and there's no more antivenin or phoenix tears. Try to swallow if you don't believe me." And at that, he walked around the bed and headed for the girl.

Severus tried to swallow and wished he hadn't. If pain of that type awaited movement he would heed Mr. Potter's warning to lie still. He watched the scene before him as he took stock of his situation. Right off, Severus could tell his occlumency shields were half strength at best. Anger, bewilderment, lingering fear, and gratitude all swirled inside him with an alarming emotional amplitude. He struggled for passive and tried to focus.

"Hermione?" Harry asked again.

Miss Granger startled and took a step back, but her eyes began to look a little more present.

"Alright, Hermione?"

Severus thought this a particularly stupid question. The answer was obviously _no_. The boy was every bit as blind and/or idiotic as ever. Unaccountably, the query seemed to relax Miss Granger to some degree. She responded with a subdued but fond smirk.

"Not so much, Harry."

"I know," he responded with a slight grin. "You back with us?"

"Kind of. Mind if I go down to the kitchen, pull myself together a bit? You can handle...?" she nodded her head toward Severus.

"Of course," Harry said, and when Hermione departed the room, he returned to Severus' side. "I'd better finish changing your dressings and fill you in, yeah?"

Severus supposed information, even from this source, was better than no information at all, and seeing as he was in no position to pursue other options, he looked down at his bandage riddled torso and nodded his consent.

By the end of Harry "filling him in," Severus' head felt ready to explode. For one thing, he discovered that he was completely in the care of people he didn't trust and who had more reason to hate him than most. It was alarming…and confusing. Even had he tried to imagine the most outlandish scenario, he'd have never conjured Harry as his nursemaid, nor imagined the boy competent at such a thing. Severus didn't know what to make of the situation at all.

For another thing, it was alarming how severely he'd miscalculated the depths of Albus' and the Dark Lord's respective madness, and the extent of the boy's idiotic exploits. He'd only had a partial measure of any of them as it turned out.

Severus was still trying to get his head around it all when he heard a familiar, deep voice call out.

"Harry, Hermione?" Kingsley Shacklebolt called out. "Ah! Hello, Severus. Good to see you awake again." Shacklebolt held out his hand and Severus shook it and gave him a nod.

"Is Hermione about, Harry?" Kingsley asked. "I've got something for her."

"She went down to the kitchen. I'll go and fetch her," Potter said.

When Harry had gone, Kingsley turned to Severus. "Has Harry had a chance to fill you in yet?"

Severus nodded.

"Warps the brain, doesn't it? Utter madness, all around. You and I and Neville Longbottom are the only ones the Trio disclosed the full details to. We've worked together to create an edited version for official record and public disclosure. The Horcruxes and Hallows are undocumented and classified. Minerva, Poppy, Neville and the Weasleys are aware you're alive, but that's the extent of it. You're presumed dead otherwise and, therefore, safe from both the Ministry, as trials don't start till next week and we haven't officially exonerated you, and from the few Death Eaters still at large. Thought we'd leave it up to you if you wanted to remain dead to the world or make a shocking comeback."

Severus pondered the fact that the trio, as Kingsley had called them, had chosen to trust him with full disclosure and had chosen to save and protect him. This was incongruous with all their previous interactions. He questioned their motives and wondered what their endgame was.

"Kingsley," Hermione called. Severus noted she looked better but for the haunted look in the depths of her eyes that remained despite the warm smile on her face. She carried a tray of muffins and Harry carried a tray with coffee and what looked like a milkshake. "Good to see you again. What brings you here this morning?" she asked.

"I have something for you," Kingsley answered and he held up a wand drawn from his robes.

"Is that...my wand? How did you...where?" she gasped.

"We've been sorting out all the misplaced wands. This was found...well, after the battle. Ollivander identified it as yours. Care to duel me for it?" Kingsley asked.

Hermione flicked an altogether too familiar dark wand and the other wand came soaring to her out of Kingsley's hand. "Oh! I think it missed me," she said, transfiguring a couch cushion into a dog and back again. "A little sluggish, but we'll get there, I think," she assessed. "Here you go." Hermione handed Bellatrix's wand to Kingsley and sighed with apparent relief when it was relinquished.

"A bit nasty, isn't it?" Kingsley asked, looking at the dark, bent wand.

"Yes. Can't thank you enough," Hermione said clutching her wand a bit before stowing it and offering the muffins and coffee.

"How many funerals today?" she asked when Harry and Kingsley had finished eating and got up to leave.

"Seven," they answered in unison.

Harry walked up to Hermione and looked at her over with concern.

Severus noted that his hearing was every bit as good as it had been. He caught every word of their quiet conversation. He could tell by the uneasy look on Kingsley's face, that he heard it as well.

"It is what it is, Harry," Hermione told him. "I'll worry about you and you'll worry about me. Nothing I say will keep you from trying to carry the weight of it all on your shoulders until you accept that none of it was your fault. I'll either keep it together or I'll fall apart and embarrass myself even more today." She paused. "It's getting worse and not better, isn't it? We're going to have to let it catch us up and deal with it, aren't we?"

They both heaved huge sighs and Harry nodded. Hermione patted him on the cheek and turned to Kingsley. "Come to dinner if you can...tonight or anytime."

Shacklebolt smiled and gave her a hug. "Thanks, Hermione. I'll take you up on it when I can. You know, if you were on my staff, I have the feeling I'd have a lot less nonsense to deal with." Hermione looked dumbstruck by the idea. Kingsley chuckled then nodded at Severus and strode from the room with Harry.


	5. That's It

CHAPTER 5: That's It

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 ****I don't own these characters or the stories they belong to***

* * *

I know you despise me; allow me to say, it is because you don't understand me.

Elizabeth Gaskell, North and South

S~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

When Harry and Kingsley were gone, Miss Granger came up to Severus' bedside.

"Sorry about earlier, sir. It wasn't you, not really...but if you could…not grab my arms again...?"

Severus nodded. Given her earlier reaction, he had no intention of grabbing her arms again, but he couldn't say so and the will to emote that on his face was overridden by the anger that rose within him. He gazed at her as if he could bore the answers to his questions out of her head. Perhaps he could've done if he had either the energy for a wandless legillimens, which he didn't, or if he had his wand. And there was one of the myriad questions burning in his brain. Where was his wand?

The other questions had to do with the situation he found himself in. He had just been freed from two masters who'd bound him in service for almost twenty years. And now, within his first waking hours, he found he was indebted and obligated to someone else.

It could've been said that he owed a life debt to James Potter. Severus wasn't sure if magic actually played a role in the owing of a life debt or if it was just something one chose to acknowledge. He'd certainly never felt a geas where James Potter was concerned. Perhaps it had to do with all the wrongs James had done him, or the fact that Severus discharged the debt in his watch care over Potter's son.

This situation with Hermione Granger was entirely different, however. Even if magic didn't compel him, obligation would. Obligated...indebted...again. Would he never be his own man? Gratitude and howling fury warred within him. Why did she save him? What did she want from him? What did she expect from him?

"Ah," she said. "I see you have questions before we go on."

"Why?" Severus asked in a raspy whisper, and he pointed to her and then to himself. Merlin, the pain rendered every spoken word precious.

"Why did I save you, you mean? Well, why wouldn't I if it could be done? I mean, look at what you've done for us through all these years. You essentially did the same thing, repeatedly, for us, so I don't know why it should be such a surprise that someone else would do the same for you."

Severus had been primed to repudiate her if pity were the answer either in expression or in word, but as hard as Severus listened and searched her face he found no evidence of such. All he detected was that Hermione looked both amused and confused that he would ask such a question. Severus knew she was a quintessential do-gooding Gryffindor, but Dumbledore too had been of that house, and in his experience, no one did something for him unless they expected something from him. If it wasn't pity, then this must be the catch. He'd just as soon find out whatever it was that she wanted now.

"I see you're dissatisfied with my answer...and have additional questions. I don't know what else to tell you on the matter," she said.

"What?" Severus pointed to Hermione, "want?" and pointed to himself.

Now she looked incredulous and confused. "Why would you think I want something from you?...Ah!" she said after a moment as if she'd hit upon some explanation. "Is that really how Slytherins operate? This for that in everything?"

Severus lifted an annoyed eyebrow and then, with his fingers drew half-moon shapes over his eyes and made a sign for a beard.

"Dumbledore, you mean? Well, can't argue there, I guess." She gave him a tentative look. "Just so you know, he regretted it. He, well his portrait, told me so...said it was necessary, and I guess I can see why...but it was obvious he cared for you a great deal."

Miss Granger let him process that in silence for a moment. Part of Severus scoffed and derided her naiveté; part of him found some comfort and hoped that it was true.

"I can see why you would expect otherwise. Who could blame you, really? All I can tell you is that we don't operate like that. Never have done. I didn't do it expecting to get anything in return. No ulterior motive, promise. You've done a lot for us over the years and deserve anything we can do to help you...but really, that just made it something we especially wanted to do...made it an honor. I'd have done it anyway."

Hermione Granger didn't even realize how backwards she had it all. Even if she were that...self-sacrificing, it didn't erase his debt. It couldn't even be counted as repayment as she suggested. All his good deeds...and weren't those muddy waters?...were recompense for the wrongs he'd done, fulfillment of the vows he'd made trying to gain absolution. And what wrongs had Granger committed to make amends for? Exactly none that required the enormity of what she'd done and was doing for him still. Regardless of whether he'd requested such measures or how wanted or unwanted they'd been, the debt was entirely on his side...again.

Severus shook his head a little. Sooner or later, something would come up. It irked him that he'd have to wait for it like he was on retainer.

She seemed to sense what was on his mind. "You don't look satisfied. You're going to be waiting for me to spring something on you until I give you some sort of answer, aren't you?" Hermione shook her head. "Okay, fine. I don't want you to worry about this."

She sat on the side of the bed and looked him steadily in the eyes. "Look, all it really amounts to is this: I offer you my help and friendship and I don't want anything in return. It's freely given; you don't have to pay for it and I don't want you to try to. But you seem to need me to give you some sort of something I want from you, so here goes. If there's anything I want from you, it's your friendship in return. But only if it's willingly given. That's it. I don't want anything from you that you don't want to give. If that's too much, simple courtesy will do and you can consider yourself off the hook otherwise. I won't abuse whatever it is you choose to offer. If, later on, I have a request to make of you, I'll do so straightforward, no obligation involved. Will that satisfy?"

Severus didn't know quite what to make of that.

"Well, think about it, anyway," she said when he didn't answer. "Let's get on with the morning, shall we?"

He did nod to that.

"I thought you might try a bit of milkshake. I know it hurts to swallow, but Madame Pomfrey advised starting small...humming or talking just a little bit, fluids...whatever you can tolerate without pushing it and working your way up a bit every day." Miss Granger held up the milkshake in question.

Severus grimaced a bit and nodded again.

"Alright. I gave you level 2 pain potion just before I went to change your dressings, so keep it in mind. I can't give you more for five hours." She looked at him as if he were a puzzle to solve. "I'm a little worried about your wounds here," she indicated her own lower abdomen, "with the move to sit up. I'm going to adjust the bed, hold your hand up there's any sharp pain or it feels wrong, okay?"

He almost wanted to roll his eyes, but considering the not inconsiderable pain that came with swallowing and trying to speak, Severus decided not to berate her caution. After he nodded his head again she adjusted the bed so that it slowly brought him up to sitting. It wasn't pleasant. There was enough pain to warn him off stupid moves, but nothing felt like it was tearing open. He only managed two sips of the milkshake before the prospect of an additional five hours without more pain potion prompted him to quit the attempt.

Miss Granger nodded at him and took the milkshake. "I'll spell in the rest," she said.

Severus was a bit alarmed, not so much because she could cause potentially fatal problems if she performed spells of that sort wrongly. That was unlikely; she was Hermione Granger, after all. No, it was that his bladder was already on the full side, she was putting even more in, which meant it would shortly get worse, and how was he supposed to take care of that? And how exactly had she been taking care of that all this time? Anger rose again. This was a really reprehensible situation.

"I imagine the loo will be an issue soon. I've been doing removal spells, but Madame Pomfrey said to quit doing them when you woke up," Hermione informed him. ' _First Potter plays nursemaid, and now, what? Granger is to take me to the loo_?' Severus fumed silently. Thankfully, it turned out she had more sense than that.

"You're not to get up or go anywhere unassisted until those wounds are closed, which they should do within the week, but I'd planned on having Kreacher apparate you there and back. I thought perhaps, he could take you, and bathe you after...sponge baths till the wounds close, I'm afraid. You can shave and whatever and I'll go brew some more pain potion while you're at it." she said with an air of waiting for his response.

Severus wasn't about to argue with this plan, all things considered. He nodded again. Miss Granger called the elf and after giving instructions, said. "I'll come wash your hair when I'm done...Oh now, don't look like that. You'll see. That's been nearly the only time your eyes haven't been scrunched in pain. At least give it one go before you argue."

He scowled but didn't argue. Severus wasn't sure why he wasn't fighting it all more, except it was all so strange and there wasn't much point anyhow. Having spent the last year worrying about them probably had a part in it. Then Hermione Granger had saved his life and requested only courtesy and friendship in return. He still needed time to mull that all over, but it he wished to feel less obligated, being churlish at this point was counterproductive. Also, he hadn't forgotten the fear in Hermione's eyes that had stopped him in his tracks and made him feel worry and regret. It all prompted him to tread lightly, as it were, or at least to tread less heavily.

Clearly Miss Granger been expecting the fight he wasn't raising. "Hmm. You know, I'm not complaining, but I expected to have more of a fight on my hands. Thought I'd have to channel Poppy, but it turns out Harry's method works just fine: 'Here's the deal, here's the plan, ignore the plan if you want to and see what happens, and there you go.' Much less drama and hovering that way...by far preferable, don't you think?" She gave him a small smile. "Mind you, if you undo all my hard work I'll be tempted to whop you and get all overbearing." She smiled again and left the room. Impertinent chit!

Severus felt a little more human by the time Hermione returned. The pain, he found, was worse with the first big movement and eased a bit with continued smaller ones.

He smirked to himself. Poppy would probably fall over in shock to see it, but Miss Granger was right, 'Harry's method' was preferable. If they could manage straight forward without the overbearing, he would behave without the overdoing…maybe. He might even attempt to cooperate and exercise his nearly non-existent patience…when he felt like it.

It was with this decision in mind that Severus consented to the hair washing Hermione offered. At first, it had been every bit as odd as Severus had expected it to be. And then she'd begun to massage his scalp. For someone prone to tension headaches, it was heaven. She talked to him a bit, and he thought she mentioned something about his hair being fine and soft, but he didn't really heed her words, he just focused on the feel of her fingers. Severus did notice her little smirk. His face must have let on more than he'd intended, namely that this was his new favorite thing. Just great. He pointedly ignored her smug amusement.


	6. Nightmares

CHAPTER 6: Nightmares

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 ****I don't own these characters or the stories they belong to****

* * *

"I thought I could describe a state; make a map of sorrow. Sorrow, however, turns out to be not a state but a process."

C.S. Lewis, A Grief Observed

S~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

That night, piercing screams rent the night air. Moans and muffled cries of "no!" alerted Severus to Hermione's distress moments before the screaming started, but he had been unable to call out to her or reach her though she lay upon a couch just a few feet across the room. He'd thought he could manage the short distance, but that had been a miscalculation, and now he lay on the floor, listening to the screams that chilled his blood.

Thankfully, it was not long before footsteps pounded through the house. Harry reached Hermione first and he struggled to wake her. Ronald and George Weasley, who had arrived to Grimmauld Place that afternoon, hovered nearby looking pale and shaken.

"Harry?" Hermione called out. Her voice was raspy. And then she started sobbing low and broken. The sound was not much of an improvement over the screaming. Harry picked Hermione up and cradled her in his arms. Severus caught the smell of urine as he strode with her across the room.

"George, can you start the bath?" Harry asked quietly, nodding at the door ahead of him.

"Here, sir," Ron said. "Let's get you off the floor." George returned from down the hall and helped Ron lift Severus into bed. Sweat dripped down his face from the pain.

Severus tried to ask his question by looking pointedly down the hall where Hermione had gone, but the Weasley boys were not as adept at reading him as Hermione was. He hadn't appreciated or been alarmed by the fact that she read him so easily until Ronald looked at him with such puzzlement and the difference was brought home in sharp relief.

"What happened?" Severus rasped, adding to the pain.

Ron looked at him a moment. "Harry said he filled you in on everything. Did he tell you details of the night we were captured and taken to Malfoy Manor?"

Evidently, in the enormous amount of information he had been given, some things had been glossed over, and this had been one of them. Severus shook his head no.

"It was bad," Ron said sitting in the chair beside the bed. George listened intently as he took care of the soiled bedclothes and cleaned the couch.

The past filled Ron's eyes as he went on. "Snatchers caught us one night - the taboo, you know. One of them was Greyback...they held her immobile and he pawed all over her, said things...about as scared as I've ever seen Hermione, but what came next was worse. Not long after we got to Malfoy Manor, Bellatrix saw the sword and flipped...thought we'd gotten it from her vault...decided to torture information out of Hermione. They locked me and Harry in the cellar. We could hear her screaming as Bellatrix crucioed her...it went on and on forever, and we couldn't get to her….When Bellatrix finally lifted the cruciatus curse, she started cackling more madly than ever and Hermione started screaming again. That was when Bellatrix pinned Hermione down and carved the word 'Mudblood' into her arm with a cursed knife." Ron paused. "Hermione's strong. She never gave in; she survived, went on and kept fighting...but there were differences. Of course there would be...don't know how she even kept her will and her mind intact, don't know exactly how close of a call it was. We almost lost her, I think. Would've done if Dobby hadn't shown up."

George looked as sick as Severus felt. He'd seen it more times than he could count, knew full well what Bellatrix's cruciatus curses did to a person. No one relished torture quite the way that mad witch had done, not even the Dark Lord. His evils had to do with dominance and control. With Bellatrix, it was more about the fun of it. Nothing made her more gleeful than to torture her victims until they lost control of their bodily functions, lost their will to live, lost their minds.

The Granger chit may once have annoyed him to the absolute limit, but Severus knew he would much rather deal with her at the height of her annoying, know-it-all glory, than enjoy her calmer, more tolerable self, if it meant she never had to pay that kind of price. Severus wondered how intact Hermione had really been when she was rescued, how close she'd come to losing the will to live.

This thought was broken with an answer that marveled and exasperated, but also brought relief.

The Weasley boys asked after Hermione when Harry came back.

"How is she?"

Potter answered, "She's embarrassed and wrung out, but mostly she's concerned about Professor Snape. Wouldn't settle down until I promised to come check on you and take care of you, sir."

She was the one re-living torture, yet she was worried about his tumble to the floor. No one was surprised by this. That part of Hermione had survived very much intact.

It transpired Severus had managed to tear the wound above his right hip open deeper.

"Hermione's gonna have kittens," Harry said as he cleaned the wound. "Well, feel really bad and have kittens." They worked together to fix what they could before Hermione saw the damage. Dittany at least stopped the active bleeding.

Harry agreed to downplay the exacerbation of his injury. Severus didn't know if he was more amused or disgusted to note that he and Boy Wonder were experiencing kinship of sorts in the matter. Neither wanted to worry or burden Hermione over the incident more than necessary. Both loathed being injured and subject to overprotective mollycoddling. Severus remembered Hermione's ultimatum. He had no wish to take the risk that she was kidding when she said, basically, 'We'll do it Harry's way unless you misbehave and then you'll be facing a Molly Weasley - Poppy Pomfrey version of me.' Merlin save him from such a fate!

An hour or so later, Severus noticed Hermione standing by his bedside. Additional pain potion or no, he'd been unable to reclaim sleep.

"Sorry, sir. I couldn't sleep and Harry took my spot," she looked over at the couch and grinned. "I didn't mean to wake you."

Severus shook his head.

"Couldn't get back to sleep either?" she asked. "Sorry about earlier. That was the worst it's been since it happened."

Severus patted his chest.

Hermione gave him a small wry smile and shook her head. "It would've happened eventually anyway. It's been catching up with me for a while." She paused for a moment, looking uncertain.

"Sir, do you...would...would you mind if I sit beside you for a little while?"

Severus looked at her for a moment and shook his head. He assumed she didn't want to be by herself and he wasn't sleeping anyway. To his surprise, she didn't sit in the chair but beside him on the bed.

She sat quietly for a time, but he could see the wheels turning in her head. He bumped her with his elbow and willed her to spit it out as he looked at her.

"Really? You're encouraging me to ask questions? That has to be a first," Hermione kidded.

Severus rolled his eyes.

"I've just been thinking, that's all," she said quietly. "About a piece I read once written by a counselor. He did outpatient counseling for various kinds of chemical dependency...said you could tell the age that someone started using because when they started using, they stopped developing emotionally, and that's the age they acted and coped with things. Just made me wonder if anything similar happens with occlumency."

Severus gave her an angry look.

"No...I'm not talking about you. I'm talking about me...sort of. I've been putting off dealing...since. At first it was keeping busy, and then it seemed like, sometimes, I found a way to shut everything down. I wondered if it was something related to occlumency. But it won't fix anything, not really, and it doesn't work all the time. When things do break through, it seems worse than before, and overall, I feel kind of stuck if that makes any sense."

Severus nodded. He noticed Harry was watching and listening as he lay on the couch.

"I don't know what's worse: feeling stuck in place with the weight of a ticking time bomb that's about to go off, or the process of actually trying to work through it - which I'm afraid means letting it catch me and tear through me, and I'm not sure what'll be left if that happens."

Severus didn't have an answer to that conundrum either. And it struck perilously close to home.

Hermione sighed. "It helps having Harry around, and you and Ron."

Severus raised his eyebrow at her and thought sarcastically, 'You're putting me in the category of people you find helpful to be around in an emotional sense? You're joking, surely.' _You're putting me in the category of people you find helpful to be around in an emotional sense? You're joking, surely_.'

Once again, Hermione read his intended message on his face. For someone used to schooling a blank expression at almost all times, he sure was getting an uncomfortable lot of practice emoting and expressing things with facial expressions.

"Yes, you," Hermione smirked. "You've all been around long enough to remind me of who I was, which is a good thing because I have a hard time remembering who that was sometimes. You know, you go through all that and fight so hard so you can get back to a good and normal world, and you have this idea in the back of your mind that you'll set normal down to fight and pick it back up again when you win, but it doesn't work that way. The world changes and so do you, and in the end, you're not sure exactly what's what or who you're supposed to be. Not sure if or how who you had to become fits into the new world you helped make. I trust you all enough to tell you the truth and know that you've been through similar enough to understand when I do."

They talked for a while, or rather Hermione talked and Severus did what little he could to respond. Eventually, fatigue encroached enough that Hermione leaned back and her chatter started tapering off. Her endless nattering and questions had always annoyed him, but now Severus found that it disturbed in a whole different way. If he didn't know better, he'd think she'd gone digging around in his brain and purposefully set about tugging on all the things that wrenched the most. Just before he drifted to sleep, Severus heard her ask perhaps the most disconcerting question yet.

"I know you have them too, sir. How do you keep the nightmares from winning?"


	7. Being Real

CHAPTER 7: Being Real

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 **** I don't own these characters or the stories they belong to****

* * *

If you never tell anyone the truth about yourself, eventually you start to forget. The love, the heartbreak, the joy, the despair, the things I did that were good, the things I did that were shameful - if I kept them all inside, my memories of them would start to disappear. And then I would disappear.

Cassandra Clare, City of Heavenly Fire

S~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

All in all, it was not the most restful night, but looking back, Severus often thought of it as the foundation for all that followed, the start of the camaraderie that sprung up between them. If their sympathy and patience hadn't been increased twofold by Hermione's terrors in the night, Severus wasn't sure it wouldn't have come about as it had.

His mood, admittedly, was sour the next morning. Severus tried not to overanalyze it. Pain, frustration, humiliation, vulnerability. Those were ample enough reasons to leave one feeling cross and out of sorts, surely. It could also be explained by the too-close-for-comfort presence and queries of Miss Granger in the night, but Severus was too busy ignoring that host of issues to acknowledge such.

It was hard to maintain too much ire in the face of Miss Granger. She largely ignored or simply allowed his black moods. Often, she raised her eyebrow and gave him a perspicacious look, and sometimes she looked flat out humored and did a poor job of hiding her smirks. Both of these things tended to reduce his anger to wary grumbling. ' _What exactly does she see_?' The unwelcome answer was, ' _Too much!_ '

Hermione did have bouts of anger and frustration, but, strangely enough, they weren't usually brought on by his own.

Anger flared in her eyes when she took in the damage done to his person in the night. Severus shot her a wary but challenging look.

"Oh, don't worry," she said testily. "I won't go spare on you as it's my fault, and I'll give you credit for having enough sense not to do anything else that will set you back even more."

Severus rather wished for some distance and time alone after the night before, and while Hermione did hie off to different tasks periodically throughout the day, he began to notice a pattern. She would return to the room frustrated and rattled, and his own testy anger would calm her down and bring back her good mood. Severus couldn't account for it.

She spotted his confusion on one of these occasions.

"What?" she asked.

' _I regret that my formidable scowl is not affecting the typical, desired outcome, namely your absence. What is wrong with you that my bad mood is putting you into a good one?_ ' was more than he could mime or accomplish with a whispered word or two. She handed him a Muggle notebook and pen, which was when he discovered his vision and fine motor skills left something to be desired. He opted for anger rather than fear and began shredding the paper.

Hermione had the good sense not to laugh at this, but what she did do stunned him. She looked at him for a moment then ripped out a few pages of her own and started shredding them too. Then she sat down next to him grabbed up the litter of pieces, tossed them into the air and charmed them into paper butterflies that danced in a mesmerizing flutter above them. She laughed at the sight and reclined next to him. Before his consternation could be transferred to action, she deflated it.

"If you must know, I prefer your rotten, angry mood to being danced around like I'm about to break," she said waving off in the vague direction of elsewhere. "It's comfortable by comparison, honest, straightforward...leaves it up to me to handle it or not instead of assuming that I can't."

Severus was obviously not the only one who could appreciate that sentiment.

"Ear, ear," said George, entering the room with Harry and Ron. Subdued, self-deprecating humor was evident in his tone. The look on Ron's face was priceless.

"I imagine the Burrow was unbearable that way," Hermione said. "and that it's better to hear Fred's name and it be okay to fall apart if you need to than to hear everyone avoid mentioning Fred or back peddle when they mention him on accident."

Harry looked less startled than Ron, whose look of bafflement and alarm, already in place upon seeing Hermione reclined beside Severus in a room full of paper butterflies, increased upon hearing Hermione talk to George about his deceased twin. It served to amuse Severus out of his black mood. Acting as if Hermione's proximity were acceptable was worth it just to see the look on Ron's face.

"You've no idea," George said, "or apparently you do. Think we can not do what you said...the awkward dancing around it thing?"

Hermione looked at Harry, "Whaddya say, Harry, add 'no walking on eggshells' to 'might as well tell the truth?'"

"Sounds good to me," Harry said.

Ron looked confused. "Why would you walk on eggshells, and what are you talking about?"

"It's a Muggle saying, I guess," Hermione explained. "When someone's sensitive about something and it's like eggshells on the floor you have to try to walk around or trod lightly on so as not to crush them. We'd rather walk through whatever it is, come what may, instead of walking around it. And somewhere along the way, Harry and I started this thing where we give each other honest answers. If we can't tell each other the truth, who can we tell?"

No one answered this rhetorical question. Hermione cocked her head in thought for a moment and then continued. "You know, I've been wondering...If you come through it all different than you were, and you don't find a way to be honest with yourself or anyone else about who you've become, do you then lose who you really are, who you're supposed to be?"

This turned an almost cliché question into a very pertinent and distressing one, even and perhaps especially for Severus. They all looked a little bit sick.

"Right," said George. "Let's not do that bit. 'It is what it is so just say it' and 'No eggshells round here'...and maybe 'Remember them.' It'll be like our manifesto"

Hermione grabbed what was left of the notebook and summoned the pen Severus had thrown in his fit of pique.

"Is she writing it down?" Ron asked.

"Of course. She's Hermione Granger. She's writing it down," George answered with a half grin.

"This feels vaguely familiar," said Harry.

"Well, if you're going to put a nasty hex on it and make us sign it again, what name are we giving ourselves this time?" George asked.

Severus figured this had to do with the infamous Dumbledore's Army. This assumption was furthered when he heard Ron mumble to Harry, "Kinda makes you miss Ginny's flare for names, huh? George didn't have free reign like this last time round. Who knows what we'll wind up with."

In the end, much to Severus' disgust, George had come over all enthused with the 'Super Secret Severus Snape iS AweSome Society' or 7S (SevenS for short), and they'd let him have his way no matter how much Severus shook his head and rolled his eyes. He regarded Hermione with a look of betrayal as she scribed the ridiculous name at the top of the page. Her grin was at least a little commiserating.

Then somehow, they'd moved on to identifying each other's ' _issues_ ' which was mixed in with ' _remembering_ ' and a fair deal of drinking, which thankfully involved butterbeer, else the four who could drink more than a few sips of milkshake would have passed out dead.

"Well, mine's easy enough...Fred," George said, his eyes glistening. "I remember Fred." He lifted his bottle of butterbeer, they all said "Fred" and took a swig.

"Sectumsempra?" Hermione asked.

Severus stiffened. George fingered the site of his severed ear. "Yeah, maybe so," he said.

"Think we saw a sign of one of yours last night, Hermione," he added. "Imagine yours include Bellatrix and the Malfoy Manor...what else?"

"Greyback," Ron said.

"Being restrained," Harry said.

Hermione nodded. Her eyes looked a bit haunted, but she also looked relieved to hear it said and not avoided. Her visage then morphed to murderous. "That cow, Umbridge and..."

"Rita Skeeter," Harry and Ron joined her.

Severus smirked, remembering some of the Skeeter witch's articles which had graced the Daily Prophet in their fourth year. He watched thunderclouds of anger storm through Harry and Hermione's eyes. If Umbridge and Skeeter knew what was good for them they would flee the country...immediately.

"The Department of Mysteries," Hermione added after a moment, lifting her shirt just high enough to show part of the scar Severus knew Dolohov had marked her with. "This and the bigotry behind it," she said lifting her arm to show the scar, "and...my parents," she finished sadly.

"You'll get them back," Ron placated.

Knowing what Hermione had done to protect them, Severus didn't think this outcome as certain as Ron sounded. Neither, apparently, did Hermione.

"I hope so," she said. "If I can restore their memories and get them to forgive me...but not yet, I'd only scare them in this state." Severus agreed with her good sense. At the moment she was entirely too gaunt and showing all the symptoms of PTSD.

Harry and Ron shared sad smiles with her then Ron smirked and added, "flying."

"Which kind?" George asked.

Looking only slightly disgruntled she said, "Most kinds. Dragons are better than thestrals...though a thestral wouldn't be invisible anymore and dragons have the potential to eat you when you land. A hippogriff is slightly better than either, and I might eventually get used enough to a broom that I'm not in terror the whole time, so long as I don't have to fly chased by a sky full of Death Eaters shooting off killing spells or trapped in a room filled with fiendfyre ever again...I'm totally fine with planes though."

Severus had heard mention of most of these, but he was still slightly aghast. Who but one of the so-called Golden Trio could claim even half that variety of flight, most of which was an invitation for death?

"How about you, sir?" she asked.

"Great bloody snakes, I imagine," said Ron.

' _Just great_ ,' Severus thought. Eventually, he nodded.

Hermione looked at him steadily. "Professor Dumbledore...your parents," she guessed...correctly.

"My parents," added Harry. "The Marauders."

"Everything you had to do act chummy with Riddle when your heart wasn't in it," Ron said, uncharacteristically perceptive.

Severus sighed and nodded, and hoped to Merlin they were done dissecting him. He lifted an eyebrow and gestured toward Ron, attempting to prod them along.

"Spiders," Harry, George, and Hermione all said.

"If Fred and George hadn't..." Ron began, scowling at George who gave him a sad half a grin in return.

"Yes, we know," said Harry. "If I'd had a teddy bear turned into a spider when I was little instead of growing up in a cupboard full of them, it might have been the same for me...especially after second year."

"Follow the bloody spiders...who but Hagrid would send a couple of second years into a grove full of a hundred bloodthirsty acromantulas deep inside the Forbidden Forest? Mental...we never did set him straight on that, did we?"

Hermione snorted. "Who, the same Hagrid that introduced me to his violent half-giant brother as 'Hermie' and asked us to go to the Forbidden Forest to babysit him and teach him English whilst Umbridge was trolling about? Who named a man-eating three-headed dog that nearly killed us 'Fluffy,' a vicious, biting, fire-breathing dragon that we had to evacuate off the top of the astronomy tower in the dead of night before it could burn down his house, 'Norbert,' and his gentle, cowardly boar hound 'Fang?'" Of course you'll never set him straight...spiders or otherwise.

' _Riddle aside, How did these three survive six years at Hogwarts_?' Severus wondered. He nearly snorted at the idea of his ' _watching over_ ' Harry through the years. It was almost a joke.

"What else, mate?" Harry asked

"Fred," Ron said, then pushed back his sleeves to show oddly shaped scars and added, "foul brains in the Department of Mysteries, Riddle's ruddy cursed objects, and...splinching." Ron shuddered slightly and looked a little grey.

"Imagine your list's a mile long, Harry," George said.

Harry clenched his fists and looked down at the scar that read, 'I must no tell lies.' "Fudge and Umbridge," he grated out. "And I'm not a fan of being dragged underwater by an army of inferi." This last was said with a repulsed shudder.

"Dementors," Ron added.

Hermione grimaced knowing what was coming.

"Only because I hear my parents being murdered every time they come near. If I never have to hear Mum scream like that again..."

A dark look came over Harry's face. Severus's felt the blood drain from his own.

"Right," Harry went on. "Everyone who died in my place getting between me and Riddle, especially Mum and Dad, Sirius, Fred, Remus and Tonks, Dumbledore, Dobby, and Cedric." Harry's face contorted for a moment with a terrible look of desperate grief. It mellowed as the others toasted the list of the fallen.

And then continued a long list of remembering, toasting, and drinking. Everyone else they knew by name that fell in the last battle, those who fell in the last couple of years including Mad-Eye, Ted Tonks, Sturgis Podmore, Bartemius Crouch, Emmeline Vance, Amelia Bones, and Rufus Scrimgeour, and then the others they knew of who had fallen in the first Wizarding War, including, to Severus' surprise, Regulus Black, were all remembered and toasted.

From that night on, they lived amongst themselves the 7S Rules of Being Real. These Hermione tacked up on the wall, charmed to look like something else to anyone besides they five, and yes, hexed (though less severely) to discourage faithless disclosure to anyone outside their circle.

Phrases like 'Alright?' 'No eggshells here,' 'Just say it,' and 'I remember,' became part of their regular repertoire. The honesty they breathed was often uncomfortable but at the same time freeing.

Severus, who had been unable to contribute much at its inception, had at first considered 7S as having to do with the other four and associated with him by only name and by virtue of his being privy to its goings on. It had a touch of the ridiculous and was entirely Gryffindor apart from the secrecy, but it was somehow too real and necessary for Severus to deride entirely. By degrees, he began to accept his inclusion.


	8. Trial and Error

CHAPTER 8: Trial and Error

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 **** I don't own these characters or the stories they belong to****

* * *

Wearily she went to bed, wearily she arose in four or five hours' time. But with the morning came hope, and a brighter view of things.

Elizabeth Gaskell, North and South

H~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

In the weeks following his awakening, Hermione watched Severus struggle both to recover and to figure out what his place was among them. At first it was as if he held himself apart and merely tried to tolerate his situation. He was still hard to read, but there were times she could tell he was learning things about them he didn't expect, moments he was nonplussed by the way they treated him as one of their own. Hermione wondered if he'd ever had the benefit of open and honest friendship aside from Lily. She suspected not, and considering how that had turned out, she couldn't blame him for being so wary. It both amused and saddened her to watch him flounder in what appeared to be unfamiliar territory.

Harry and Severus shared a similar temperament regarding being invalided, namely they refused to be so unless it couldn't be helped and even then it was met with rebellion. Hermione had been surprised by how well 'Harry's method' worked with Severus, but there came a point when Severus was determined to get his feet underneath him whether his wounds were completely healed or not.

"Alright," she said one morning when he refused to be put off standing and walking a bit. "But I'm going to walk beside you...don't look at me like that...I won't hold on to you, but I'll be here to grab on to if it feels like you're pulling something open and need to take the strain off, deal? And if Poppy comes to check up on you we pretend it never happened...unless you injure yourself, and then you're on your own...except that I'll be labeled the worst nurse ever."

His smirk at her closing mumble only lasted until weakness caused him to wobble and grab hold of her. She gave him a 'told you so' look but he was determined to make it across the room to the chair, and so they did. That had marked the beginning of his progress toward independence, which both made it easier and harder for him.

It was almost more awkward for him when they moved him into the bedroom adjacent to the first-floor sitting room. His increasing mobility and independence required him to self-determine his location, which meant if he spent time among them instead of holed up in his room, it was by choice. Hermione knew Severus did not wish it to appear that he desired their company, though she sensed he sometimes did, so she took to drawing him out of his room, thereby making it appear he was congregating with them because of her prodding and not by his own will.

By slow process, his uncertainty and frustrations began to lessen as he regained himself. It was uncertain territory for all of them, forging relationships with Severus Snape, but they were figuring it out as they went along. Hermione was almost surprised to note that though he was friendly with Minerva, Poppy, Kingsley and even Arthur, Severus seemed not only to tolerate her, Harry, Ron and George, and they him, but to be as much or more at ease in their company. When she had offered Severus friendship, Hermione had been unsure if the others would sincerely offer the same and then worried that despite their wish to befriend him, Severus would yet find them 'intolerable'. She was pleased by every instance that allayed her fears.

Harry seemed to gravitate toward Severus. Hermione knew that Harry felt a connection with him through his Mum, but the more she watched them together, the more she saw there was more to it than that. It was the burdens they carried, she realized, the weight of long-held secrets and unrelenting duty. It made them like-creatures in a way. She hoped they would help each other in time. Severus needed more of Harry's openness, and Harry needed more of Severus' control over emotions and angst. They both needed to let go of a ton of their baggage.

Ron bonded with Severus over wizard chess. Severus, she knew, didn't tolerate fools and though he had always seemed to revile Ron as such, Ron's thoughtfulness was more evident in his grief, and when they first played, Hermione spotted Severus' surprise. By the readiness and absorption with which they played subsequent games, it was evident they found each other's strategic genius engaging.

The most unexpected thing to Hermione was how well George and Severus were getting along. It came as a surprise to Hermione to learn that Fred and George had escaped the over-associate-the-next-generation-with-the-Marauders paintbrush with which Severus had painted them over the years. There were times when she caught Severus smirking at tales of Fred and George, or at George's much subdued but still-in-existence humor. Once she had even found Severus and George looking through Fred and George's inventions notebook. When she asked Severus about this, he explained of the twins, "More inventive, better targets."

And then there was her own relationship with Severus. It was lightness and terror all at the same time. The wonderful part was that she'd finally found someone equal to her in intellect who shared her bookish nature, someone she could read and discuss things with without dumbing things down or keeping her excitement to herself, someone who was growing to understand her just as she was growing to understand him. Hermione cherished her time sitting beside him reading and talking or even just being, and she didn't think she could ever get on without it again. And that's what terrified her. She realized she was becoming dependent on her friendship with Severus - but what if he got better and decided he was done with them all, with her? Hermione knew she wouldn't cope well if that happened - at all. She sensed it could break her worse than all the breaking that had come before.

It left her not knowing if she should dive deeper, enjoy it while she could, and try to win him over or if she should get a little distance and try to protect herself. It was a sort of dance, and he was dancing it too.

This morning Hermione sensed that Severus needed a bit of space…cue dance step back. She wasn't sure how much of that need was in reaction to her or how much was driven by his own inner demons, but she had her own mix of the two going on as well, so she made plans to decamp to a public library for a few hours. Harry was gone until the evening to funerals and the first of the trials, and she didn't want to leave Severus alone, so that left Ron and George. She wasn't surprised when they insisted that one of them go with her. Greyback was still at large, and truth be told, even if this were not the case, after all that had happened, Hermione was wary of being alone, even in a secure place, let alone out in public. What did surprise her was Ron wanting to go to the library.

Before leaving, she changed Severus' dressings and told him she was heading to the library.

"I've read almost everything here and I'm in a mood for something different anyhow. How about you? Any special requests?" she asked him.

Severus shrugged. "Surprise me…but nothing…unpleasant."

"So no romance novels, sappy poetry or badly written tripe?" she teased. "Got it," she laughed when he gave her a withering, exasperated look.

Hermione turned to Ron and George. "A trip to a Muggle library isn't likely to invite trouble. I can handle a trip to my native habitat alone," she offered. "I mean, it's the library Ron. Are you sure you can handle it?"

All three of them had been giving her quite the look before her last quip, but then snorted, even Ron.

"I'll live," he said. "Come on then, let's go."

Hermione surprised Severus when she kissed him farewell on the cheek, same as she did George, but not as much as when she gave him a grin and said, "Don't miss me too much."

After a brief moment of shock, he gave her a look that said, ' _No worries there,_ ' and returned to his book. When she looked back before departing the room, she found his dark eyes upon her. It almost gave her hope that he was feeling the same conflict that gripped her: the need for space giving way to the opposite as soon as distance is embarked upon.

Hermione let go Ron's hand as soon as they'd apparated to a spot a few blocks from the public library. Both of them inconspicuously grasped their wands as they took a hyper vigilant look about them. Even as they stowed their wands and began walking they maintained their vigilance.

"You really didn't have to come with me, Ron." Hermione said. "But thank you."

Ron put his arm around her shoulders. "Yes, I did. We've gone over this. Not gonna...er, send you off to wander on your own with Greyback still on the loose...maybe even if he weren't. Even Snape agreed."

"Well, if Severus said so," she teased. Ron dropped his arm a bit awkwardly.

Hermione sighed, hating the weirdness that was between them lately. "We're going to have to talk about this aren't we?"

Ron grabbed the back of his neck. "Suppose so."

When he didn't offer anything else, Hermione hedged, "Is it completely me…or was it a bit like…kissing a sibling?" Spotting Ron's dark look, she went on nervously. "Maybe it was just…the timing. Don't be mad, Ron, please. If it's too soon, we can talk about it later. Maybe, with more time…?"

Ron sighed and deflated a bit. "It wasn't just you," he admitted. "It's just all that time…"

"I know," Hermione said. "All that time we spent wanting each other, and then..."

Ron shook his head. "Yeah. I never expected that."

Hermione said, "I think we could even make ourselves…and maybe if we both tried really hard it would turn out okay, but it could also end badly, couldn't it? Really badly. I mean, what would we talk about? Bore each other over books and quidditch? Or would we just quit talking to each other? And Ron, I love you. I can't lose you, either way. Promise me," she said desperately.

"I promise, Hermione. Always family, always friends…even if nothing else ever happens…always," he promised and he grabbed her up into a genuine, un-awkward hug. He rested his chin on the top of her head. "I've already messed up so many times. I don't ever want to be the one who messes up and walks away again, even if it doesn't turn out the way I'd hoped."

Hermione gave him a watery smile as she threaded her arm through his and resumed their walk. "Part of me wants to go ahead and try just so I don't end up as a lonely old cat lady with too many books, but that's no good is it? I'm so messed up right now….The timing isn't good for either one of us. You're okay to go on as friends, figure it out ...later maybe?"

Ron gave her a small grin. "Yeah, best friends."

She beamed at him and nodded in relief. "So what prompted you to volunteer for library time, really?"

Ron put his hands in his pockets as he walked.

"Well, you went and read every book in Grimmauld Place and I thought I'd spare everyone having to face you without your fix," he grinned at her. "Besides, you said there'd be some books on chess strategy here."

"That's probably the first time in all the years I've known you to sound even marginally excited about going to the library...and I only skimmed the dark ones...which is about half of them." Hermione said. She thought about the wizard chess games Ron and Severus had been playing. "He really gives you a challenge, doesn't he?"

Ron grunted. "Maybe the only one who ever really has."

"I know what you mean," she said.

Ron grunted again. "Yeah. We always knew you were brilliant, but the way you two go on...well, the way you go on and he actually gets it and says a few words...Harry and I reckon you're about twice as brilliant as we ever figured. It's part of what made me realize…" Ron grabbed the back of his neck again. "It's odd how well you two get on...how well he gets on with all of us really. Whod've thought?"

Hermione grinned. "I know. Especially with Harry."

"We've always hated him...well maybe not you so much, huh?" he questioned. She shook her head and he continued, "Definitely Harry though, and now..." Ron thought for a minute. "They kind of get each other in a weird way...never thought that'd happen."

After spending a couple of hours at the library, Hermione checked out two huge piles of books which Ron helped her carry to a spot that was inconspicuous enough to stow them into the impossibly small beaded bag. They ran a few other errands and when they returned to Grimmauld Place that afternoon, they found Ginny and Kingsley there.

Hermione read at once that Kingsley and Severus were comfortable in each other's company, but this was not so much the case with Ginny and Severus. She knew it was one thing to hear that Severus was actually one of them, but another to accept the reality of it. While Hermione understood this, it upset her for Severus' sake. She greeted Ginny and Kingsley with hugs and chatted with them a bit before turning her attention to Severus. She was genuinely glad and relieved to see him again, but she also wanted to show her solidarity. She walked over and grinned at him.

"Did you miss me?" she teased.

Severus grunted, but she could tell by the look in his eyes that he had.

This made her answering smile warm and brilliant. It said, 'me too,' and she knew he saw it.

"In that case, I bring gifts." She started withdrawing piles of books. "And a project," she added, now withdrawing boxes that contained a stereo / CD player and speakers and a pile of CD cases. "If anyone can help me figure out how to get this to work here it'd be you and George. I've been thinking for a while now that music might help." She didn't qualify how. She didn't have to with her 7S housemates.

She sat beside him as he thumbed through the books and the CD's. "You approve?" she asked.

He gave her a wry grin and nodded. His dark eyes found hers. "Thank you," he said. She had a feeling he meant it for more than the books.

She smiled at him again. "Ron's hoarding a few books in his pockets. You might want to try to sneak them. He's been reading up on chess strategy."

Severus gave Ron an amused look. Ron just shook his head and looked at Hermione. "Traitor," he mouthed at her. Hermione was glad to see the grin he gave her was mostly back to normal.

Hermione saw that Ginny had relaxed somewhat with these interchanges, though she looked a little confused. This continued as they kept up the easy banter that included her and Kingsley in the mix, especially when Harry returned and George came down from his room. Ginny and Kingsley were treated as something like a second tier; they were never told the secrets of 7S but they were included in the practice of the _Rules of Being Real_. Ginny seemed somewhat surprised by the difference, but they could tell she found it refreshing.

Kingsley and Harry brought news that the Malfoy trials were starting tomorrow. Severus looked concerned and then stunned (for him) when she and Harry and then Ron stated their intent to go testify on their behalf...well, on behalf of Draco and Narcissa at least.

Hermione knew Severus was thinking of her Malfoy 'issues' when he gave her, in particular, a look that asked, 'You would do this?'

She grasped his arm and gave him a reassuring smile. "You'd like to be there, wouldn't you? We'll make sure it happens, but they haven't cleared you yet...so it wouldn't help matters," she said honestly. "We'll do what we can for them in your place. We saw enough to tell truths that will help them."

Severus sighed and nodded.

Hermione asked Kingsley when they would hold Severus' own trial. He said he could arrange it for after the Malfoys if they were ready. "We can hold it posthumously or with you in attendance. Your memories, the letter Dumbledore left and everything Harry's been working hard to get together should make it pretty straightforward. Have you decided if you're going to fade quietly away or make a shocking reappearance yet?" Kingsley asked him.

Severus looked down in thought. Harry and Hermione shared a look as he deliberated. Unable to bear the possibility that he could choose to leave everyone, even them, behind, Hermione grabbed his hands now. "We'll be there, all of us, right beside you, either way," she said.

He let her see the swirls of emotion in his eyes. Fear. Worry. Awe. Hope. "I'll be there," he said finally, "I'll come back."


	9. What Do You See?

CHAPTER 9: What Do You See?

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 ****I don't own these characters or the stories they belong to****

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"The night was railing against the morning of which it was bereaved, and the cold was cursing the warmth for which it hungered."

― J. R. R. Tolkien

S~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The few times Severus had allowed himself to think forward to a time where he might survive the war and stand trial, it had never crossed his mind that he would do so depending on friends who stood beside him. It still unsettled him; it felt both like weakness and like strength, but he did appreciate it. If not for his housemates at his side, he knew he would've retreated behind walls of occlumency and anger, alone and bitter by now. It wasn't until their easy familiarity had given way to a battle ready solidarity that he realized how much of a unit they had become, or to use Hermione's words, a family of friends. Striding in pace with him through the Ministry, which was filled with an ever increasing tumult of shocked noise, they had become his shield wall, like the Roman testudo formations of old and for the first time in his life, Severus felt he had true companions with him behind the siege lines.

Hermione, in particular, kept her promise and attached herself almost literally to his side. During the trial, Severus was surrounded in support, not only from his housemates, but from the remainder of the Weasleys, Minerva, Poppy, and a fair number of the DA and the Order. Harry had indeed been busy on his behalf. It almost overwhelmed him, it certainly bolstered him from the sea of anger that he faced. If his reappearance in the Wizarding World hadn't been accompanied by so much anger, the shock that overcame so many faces would have been humorous.

Especially Draco and Narcissa's. Lucius was under house arrest and numerous heavy restrictions and fines and Draco was under several restrictions as well, but the Trio's support had both saved Lucius from worse and ensured Draco and Narcissa's freedom. They had come in support of Severus today, having no notion that he was still alive, and were unsure of how to approach him through his unexpected wall of support. Severus nodded to them and watched them puzzle over how he was still alive and when he'd come by his new pseudo-family.

The victory party at the Burrow marked his being restored to the world and the world being restored to him. Because of the SevenS, Severus was marginally less wary of accepting the benevolence and proffered support of those in attendance as honest offerings, but true openness and acceptance was still very much limited to the four who had wormed their way under his guard with their constancy. The day had been overwhelming, and the avalanche of interest that had begun to descend made him ill. He was glad, now, that Harry had insisted he stay with them. As far as sanctuary went, Grimmauld Place was better than Spinners End at present, both in terms of security and in that it kept him from mouldering alone in his hated abode. Severus didn't know how much to credit Harry's assertion that his staying with them was for their benefit as much as his, but he decided to keep things as they were for now.

The next morning Harry and Ron went with George to his shop to prepare for a grand re-opening. They looked wrung out when they returned to Grimmauld Place that evening. It was a grueling, emotional undertaking, but every day it seemed to take a little less out of them. Hermione and Severus mostly stayed within the sanctuary of Grimmauld, reading, listening to music, which in Hermione's case meant humming or sometimes singing in her surprisingly lovely voice, brewing potions, and in Severus' case working on the projects he was consulting on with George who was planning on rolling out some of the last ideas he and Fred had planned together.

It all meant that he and Hermione were spending significant time in each other's company, which was good in some ways and others not. Her presence felt all at once not enough, just right, and too much. The perception of her being too close was to be expected. He wasn't used to being touched or…empathized with, and he regarded every bit of himself given to another as a potential weapon that could be turned against him. Just right, while surprising, was an unexpected boon, an unlooked for but valuable kinship. Recalling the times he had seen her treat Kingsley, Harry, Remus and the Weasleys with a similar disregard for personal space (i.e. touching, hugging, and sitting very near) allowed him to accept this as a mark of her friendship, which he could admit was, in most ways, acceptable. But the idea of Hermione being yet too far away for comfort frightened and confused him. Severus tried not to dwell on this lest it lead him into dangerous waters. Under no circumstances could he allow himself to become needy and dependent.

When he was in a she's-too-close-for-comfort frame of mind he began secluding himself in solitary pursuits. This was when Hermione took to making solitary excursions. Sometimes she brought back library books, sometimes she didn't. Either way, he didn't like it, and he wasn't alone in that. They all knew she was capable of handling herself, but that didn't stop them from feeling protective over her and fussing at her for it. The other three grumbled when she placated them, but he felt alone in the depth of his anger and worry. Of all the many charges he'd had through the years, she somehow incited him to greater depths of concern than he'd ever known. This in no way reduced his anger.

One day when he'd bawled her out over taking off on her own in such a reckless, thoughtless manner, she said, "Fine, come with me then," grabbed his hand, walked him to the front step and apparated him to a place he'd never expected. They were in a public park with an outdoor concert arena where people milled about, ate food from vendors, and listened to live music. The surprising thing about the locale was that she'd transfigured a sort of platform in a tree where she could watch and listen without being observed. Among the formidable protections she'd put about her spot was an odor-blocking charm she said she'd figured out after a close call with a snatcher who had smelled her perfume while they were on the run, and it was thus protected from Greyback's nose if he happened across the area.

Hermione conjured cushions and they sat shoulder to shoulder with their backs against the trunk of the tree watching people and listening to music. That day, it was an orchestral concert of what she called soundtrack music which he'd noticed she was partial to. She had explained that she and her parents had frequented the theater and the cinema and she was a fan of those musical forms, especially the movie soundtracks that portrayed themes and things grander than words could capture. He had to admit she had a point. Things like valor, majesty, despair, nostalgia, beauty and other un-nameable and wonderful things were discernible in the notes. He glanced over at her during one particularly stirring strain of music and noticed the sheen of tears in her eyes. She gave him a small grin when she noticed his regard. "Why is it the most beautiful things usually have a touch of sadness in them?" she asked. Looking at her, he knew exactly what she meant, but he had no answer.

Later when they'd gone to a Muggle café to eat, she'd been absorbed watching the people around them. Lonely old people, couples, sullen teens, and mothers with children all fell under her regard.

"There is a beauty to people, isn't there?" she asked.

Not particularly, in his view. The world was full of ugly, and people were the chiefest blight. He raised a disbelieving eyebrow at her.

"Oh, I know there's ugly," she said. "But it's like the music, the beauty is mixed in…its' there…it's in love and selfless acts, in the innocence we're born with, even in our bruised and hidden hearts that keep hoping and beating…you just have to look. I probably sound like Luna Lovegood…."

"Or Albus Dumbledore," he quipped.

"Or Albus Dumbledore," she grinned. "But don't you ever look and see it and wonder what's wrong with us? The world will never be without evil because it's in all of us too. Why? And does the ugly make the beautiful more so, or would the beautiful be blinding without the taint? Can you imagine what that would be like?"

When not discussing factoids or academic minutia, she had the knack of asking the most disconcerting questions. This especially happened when she read books that made her "think about things." Severus sometimes marveled at the way she made him look at the world in a different way. He'd thought himself old and jaded enough to be set in his opinions and ways, but she proved him wrong on more than one occasion.

And he wasn't the only one she threw off guard. Once George and Ron had Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes up and running again and the trials slowed down, Harry resumed spending more of his time at Grimmauld Place. One afternoon, after he'd finished collecting memories and laying the groundwork to bring charges against Dolores Umbridge, Harry sat in the sitting room with them as they read. Severus looked up from his book several times to catch Hermione lost in thought, her book nearly forgotten in her lap.

Finally he asked, "What is it? What thoughts have you wandering miles away?"

She gave him a ghost of a grin and went on in a pensive, far away manner. "Oh, it's just something I've been reading by C.S. Lewis. Do you know him?"

Severus thought. "The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe, correct?"

"Yes," she said waggling the book in her hands. "This one's non-fiction. He's talking about the desire we have for our own far off country, is how he put it. You know, the secret, innermost part of you that is pierced with things that seem like memories of something, and we call it Nostalgia. He says it's not really memories, it's not a remembrance of things we've actually experienced, it's just that our experience keeps suggesting things, like glimpses from that far off country that we long for." Here, let me find it," she said scanning down the page. "Ah, here we are. He says, 'These things – the beauty, the memory of our own past – are good images of what we really desire; but if they are mistaken for the thing itself they turn into dumb idols, breaking the hearts of the worshippers. For they are not the thing itself; they are only the scent of a flower we have not found, the echo of a tune we have not heard, news from a country we have never yet visited.' ** Do you think it's really out there? That he's right? It's not that we have to try to recapture something from our past, but the beauty that haunts us in glimpses is something out there that we reach forward to?"

Harry's thoughtful look had a good dose of dumbstruck thrown in. Severus was fighting to keep exactly that look off his own face. Yes, Hermione was good at the disconcerting, startling, hope-reviving, worldview-changing questions. And he'd once thought her woefully limited to parroting and incapable of independent thought. He could honestly call himself wrong on that score.

Except he'd later asked Harry, "It that her usual modus operandi?"

And Harry had answered, "What, the questions? She's always asked questions and made leaps of logic that would never have occurred to us…but yeah, this is a bit different. She's been searching trying to make sense of things…which she usually does do, it's just it's bigger this time I guess. She's been posing your brain stoppers then, huh?"

"Quite," he answered. So her off the page habits hadn't previously been quite so developed, then. This made Severus feel marginally better.

It was odd to him, his place among the SevenS, because of his age and experience.

Severus didn't quite know how to classify himself - something of a friend, something like an uncle figure.

He was flabbergasted when Hermione pointed out in private conversation, "You know, you're the only thing like a god-father-figure Harry has left. Until you, Remus was the last person he had who was part mentor, part friend and knew at least one of his parents well." She then paused as if to gauge her words and added, "I've never said as much to him, but there are ways that I think you're more suited to the role than Sirius was - at least now that you've come to realize that Harry isn't his father. Despite how close he and Harry were, I don't think Sirius ever really realized that. And I think you understand Harry in ways Remus and Sirius were never able. I'm glad he has you."

When he got over the shock of being compared to his nemesis, Severus had to grant that his relationship with Harry was coming to feel like something like the sort she mentioned.

His relationships with Ron and George weren't nearly that complex, but his relationship with Hermione...was.

She was something of a fascination for him, different from who he'd assumed she was and like him in more ways than he'd ever realized. In a way, he was less a mentor figure with her than with the others; her intellect placed her on much more equal ground. That and her alarming ability to see through him and get under his guard. She certainly had the ability to intrigue him. He couldn't think of anyone besides Lily that he would have ever sat with in café - or in a tree - and played, ' _What do you see? - What do you suppose their story is_?' as they people-watched.

He admired her ability to put her own suffering in perspective. "There are worse things under the sun, and others have suffered them," he'd heard her say a few times when she was having a rough patch. Not in a way to negate her own experiences, which concern he had raised, but as a choice to live with them and move on. "Everyone's got their own trauma, don't they?" she'd responded. "I can either carry mine around like a badge and use it as an excuse for un-laudable actions and attitudes or I can try to assimilate it and get on with things."

Severus winced a little when he sorted his past actions according to this scheme. He was forced to admit that she was making a better go of it than he had.

Hermione also had a predilection for sidling up to one or the other of them to read, sit quietly next to or talk with. Severus sensed she didn't like to be alone after all that had happened and that she gained comfort from this, though it gave comfort to them all as well and made her like the glue between them. She was like a sister common between them – bossy, bewildering, and beloved.

To his bemusement, she seemed to prefer sidling up to him, whether alone at Grimmauld Place, in a crowd as they were at the Ministry during the trial of Dolores Umbridge, or amongst their friends as they were at the cinema outing with which they celebrated the win of getting 'that Umbridge cow' sentenced to time in Azkaban and banned from future employ at the Ministry.

The more he was around Hermione, the more Severus allowed himself to enjoy her company. She was brilliant, ruthlessly determined, resilient, and steadfast. Most people saw what they expected or wanted to see, but she had a rare gift for looking beyond the misconceptions. Severus had thought himself among the exceptional few who could do the same, but realized he had deceived himself in this when he compared himself to Hermione. At her age he'd missed all the clues he should have seen, in Lily, in his fellow Slytherins, and even himself. He wondered briefly what his life would have been had Lily been more like her. Hermione was not flawless, she had random blind spots of her own, but he had a feeling that in Lily's place, Hermione would never have let his illusions stand nor given up on him so easily. She was far too much the crusader to have allowed that. Of a certainty, Lily had never changed the lenses with which he saw the world as Hermione had done.

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**from The Weight of Glory by C.S. Lewis

 **A/N** This chapter is dedicated to the memory of James Horner who died this week. I wrote this a few weeks ago, and it was much of his music I thought of as I wrote it...and thinking of the time I got to listen music of Braveheart at the outdoor amphitheater in Red Rocks, Colorado. It's the end of an era in film music.


	10. Reconstruction

CHAPTER 10: Reconstruction

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 ****I don't own these characters or the stories they belong to****

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"When the time comes to die, make sure that all you have to do is die!"

Jim Elliot

H~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Where's Severus?" Harry called as he came in to the room.

"Upstairs brewing the last of the potions for Poppy," Hermione told him, taking in Harry's serious face with concern. She set down her book and followed him up the stairs as he went to find Severus.

They paused when they entered the room. Both of them knew better than to speak or interrupt without invitation lest they ruin hours worth of work by botching up a stir count.

Severus finished decanting the potion he was working on and looked up. "What is it?" he said with a crease between his eyes as he took in Harry's face.

"It's Spinner's End. Looks like one of the Death Eaters at large tried to burn it down. Kingsley said they'd been keeping an eye on it in case any of them showed up there. They missed whoever did it, but they were able to put out the fire before it did too much structural damage. The protective spells on your books and your lab look like they held," Harry said.

Hermione walked up to Severus. His eyes held a mix of emotions until they went calm again. She touched his arm, "I'm sorry, Severus. It's where you grew up, isn't it?"

"Yes," he said simply.

"Bit of a mixed bag, then? Kind of like this place?" Harry asked looking around.

"You could say that," Severus answered.

"Why don't I get Kreacher and we'll go check it out and bring back your books and lab stuff until we figure out what needs doing?" Harry asked.

And that's what they'd done. Hermione was afraid Severus would resort to occlumency to lock it all down, thereby locking them out, and while he did to some extent, he didn't completely. She was thankful for this, both for his sake and their own - glad that he, to at least some extent, let them see and share his burdens, and saddened by what had happened.

The first day, they spent boxing up what could be salvaged and soon set about plans to reconstruct and restore the place. Hermione was put in charge of setting up Severus' impressive library at Grimmauld Place and sorting out the expansion of the upstairs lab with the influx of ingredients and equipment. She was thrilled by the prospect and began the task with great enthusiasm.

Meanwhile, Harry recounting how it had felt to dig Dobby's grave with the strength of his hands and the sweat of his brow had talked Severus into gutting and redoing the place with as much hands on manual labor as possible. Hermione inwardly shook her head. It was a good thing that Severus had recovered as much as he had. She couldn't balk at it too much. They both seemed enlivened by the prospect of their own project and who knew, it might do them some good. When George and Ron got wind of it all, George counted it good timing that he'd recently hired more help at the shop and they settled between them that they would trade days helping at Spinner's End.

Hermione had the foresight to brew sun block potion while they were in the planning stages, and followed that up with the muscle relaxing, and pain reliever potions she had an inkling they would need. She hadn't been wrong.

Kingsley came over to check on Severus the day they started demolition. Her own day had been long and arduous, sorting and shelving books and potions ingredients after creating more storage space. She'd had to force herself not to stop and read everything she came across, but the result was that she'd made excellent headway. She was a bit of a sore mess when Kingsley showed up, but nothing like the bedraggled, barely-able-to-move mess that was Severus, Harry, and Ron when they dragged themselves home.

"Overdo it a bit, did we boys?" Hermione asked sweetly.

Kingsley chuckled. They glared at her. Until she handed out the potions and the bath salts. Then she got a kiss on the cheek from all of them, even Severus.

Due to their fatigue and the gusto with which they consumed food, conversation at dinner was minimal. Severus, apparently so hungry that he didn't think a milkshake and nutrient potion would do the job, ate more than he had done since the attack, despite the pain. Kingsley, George and Hermione carried on what conversation there was, talking about the reconstruction at Hogwarts and the goings on at the ministry. When the other three fell practically dead at the table after hasty consumption, she was thankful that Kingsley and George were there to help her maneuver the three lumps toward bed.

No nightmares haunted them that night.

A few days later, when she had finished her own project, Hermione decided to go check in at Spinners End. Her moment of shock gave way quickly to amusement when she saw they were embarrassed at being caught shirtless – well mostly this was George and Severus – she'd lived in a tent with Harry for nearly half a year, after all.

Inwardly, she noted that Severus had gained back to a healthier weight since she'd last seen him sans shirt and that Severus working shirtless in jeans was a whole different matter to Severus laid out shirtless in a sickbed. Outwardly, she chuckled. "I suppose cooling charms would negate the spirit of the thing?" she asked.

"Of course," Harry smiled. Severus made to reach for his t-shirt.

"Oh, it's just me, leave them off. It's the end of June and hotter than the sun today. If I could take my shirt off, I would too. Have you left anything destructive I can do?" she asked as she passed out lemonade.

They quirked eyebrows at her, gulped the lemonade gratefully, gave her a sledgehammer and pointed her at a partially burned upstairs wall. She had at it with gusto, laughing and enjoying herself immensely. 'Harry has a point about physical exertion after all,' she mused. They kept an eye on her and called a stop to her fun when sweat ran and her arms started to shake and swing wild.

"Whew," she said mopping her brow. "I imagine you'll be quite fit by the time you're done. I don't think I'll be able to move my arms tomorrow."

It wasn't just her arms. It was her back and her neck and everything. And the potions and the bath didn't begin to cover it.

"Overdo it a bit, did we?" Severus teased the next evening in his deep voice, which was beginning to regain its smooth texture. He smirked at her glaring grimace, but earned his place firmly as one of her most favorite people when he gave her a massage with his wonderfully talented hands.

Her moans of pleasure drew George's attention. "I feel left out. Why haven't I gotten one of those?" he asked.

Harry and Severus snorted. "Repayment for all the potions she's been brewing for us," Severus explained.

"There is that," Harry grinned.

As the days went on, Spinner's End began to transform from dark, damaged and dreary to light, clean and comfortable, and their stamina increased. Before they were half done, Hermione's men folk were in talks of transforming Grimmauld Place to lightness in the same manner.

Now, much more empathetic to their plight, she had begun trading massages with the boys, but her absolute most favorite thing ever was massage a la Severus Snape. His fingers, beyond a doubt, were the most skilled of the bunch. And she was the only one who got them.

Severus had given her the run of his library and Hermione divided her time between researching ways to restore her parents' memories and working herself to exhaustion at Spinner's end. Well, and brewing the pain and muscle potions – the supposed barter for the massages she loved so much.

When she stumbled across a reference that indicated a form of reverse legillimency was helpful in memory restoration, Severus began to tutor her in occlumency and legillimency.

Harry kept a wary proximity to the proceedings. Hermione wasn't sure if he was interested in learning or afraid she would suffer Severus' method of teaching. Severus wasn't quite as brutal with her, but it was rough to start. He at least proffered more help with meditation techniques than he had given Harry in his fifth year.

Harry both grumbled and seemed glad for Hermione's sake.

Severus didn't quite apologize to Harry. He admitted he could have handled it better, but also explained, "It's the emotional response that gets in the way. If you can master getting a handle on it when your emotions are at a peak, you catch the flavor of it, so to speak, and it becomes much easier and automatic to do after that."

"Yeah, I think I finally got that when Riddle was on his way to Dumbledore's tomb and I had to decide between Hallows and Horcruxes," Harry said. "Useful in battle and highly charged situations, but I don't know that I'd want to go around that emotionally detached for long. Sort of takes the human out of you, doesn't it?"

Severus looked steadily at Harry for a moment then said. "You do have to be careful, yes. It doesn't just help you hide your emotions and memories, it also makes it easier to sort through and store your experiences and memories in a meaningful way, improving logical processing and memory recall. But there is a danger of getting stuck in a dead, unmoving place if it is used wrongly or actively for prolonged periods of time." He looked at Hermione, "It can make things harder in the long run if you use it to put off dealing, as you said, and you do not take the time to process them."

His words and the look he gave her recalled the night that she sat next to him talking to him about occlumency after her flashback and nightmare. Hermione had the feeling that for all Severus' experience with occlumency, he was just learning the extent and pitfalls of the 'dead, unmoving place' himself. It was easier for her to lay aside her fears and get the hang of it after she was apprised of the dangers to avoid. Her tendency toward logic and organizing information in her mind helped. Her temper did not.

Hermione didn't like to practice when she was by herself and was thankful that Severus practiced with her when he was home. He told her it was helping him process and rebuild the shields that had been damaged when he had almost died.

She grabbed his hand. "I'd wondered...I'm glad it's helping," she told him "but I hope you don't take to retreating behind your shields. It's been nice getting to know you on this side of them."

Severus gave her his half smile. He didn't say it, he rarely did, but she read a mutual response in his eyes.

She was amazed when, after having gotten a decent start on occlumency, Severus let her begin to practice legillimency on him. He shielded most things carefully away when he did this, but still, he allowed her to see inside his mind. It was hard, much harder than occlumency, and the images that flashed by were confusing at first, but it was him, and to her, it was beautiful.

It was toward the end of July when Minerva and Kingsley came round for dinner with the objective of persuading Severus to take back up the mantle of Headmaster and the Trio to return for an 8th year that was being offered last year's 7ths. Severus was adamantly against resuming his post as Headmaster at first, and Ron and Harry were unsure of returning for an 8th year, but this lead to discussions of what they wanted to do with their lives. Such had already begun to crop up as the summer progressed. They had passed nearly three months with a primary purpose of regaining their footing, but now that they were beginning to do so, the need for some other purpose was beginning to reassert itself.

Hermione talked Ron and Harry round by asking, "Do you just want to get by on the merit of your fame or do you actually want to rightly earn and prove your worth to take up your chosen profession?" Ron remained ambivalent, but Harry was swayed. Ron followed along when Kingsley mentioned he would be happy to take them on as Aurors but would prefer them to finish their last year first.

When it came to Severus, they couldn't negate that he would likely face anger and ill-will, but they vowed their support. It wasn't until Minerva asked tartly, "So you want last year to be your legacy as Headmaster and you have no wish to re-write it?" that he began to cave. When Severus brought up that he and Harry had promised to take Hermione to Australia to find her parents, Minerva promised to keep the reins on things, the reconstruction and the preparations, just consulting with him until the week before school started so that he could have the rest of the summer to recuperate and help Hermione. He finally agreed.

They went to dinner in Diagon Alley that night to celebrate…or take stock. They were all still a bit in shock over what they'd agreed to.

"It's gonna be weird after this summer," Ron said.

They all nodded. "We'll have to go back to calling you Sir and Professor, at least when we're not alone with you," Harry told Severus. "Same as with Poppy, Kings, and Minerva, I guess,"

Hermione placed her hand over one of Severus' on the table and looked at him with anxious eyes. "It'll change, at least in public…can we all still be us with each other?"

Severus sighed and offered a rare bit of open honesty. "Yes. I have a feeling it will be necessary to keep my sanity."

They all nodded in relief and Hermione smiled at him.

George lifted his glass in a silent toast – silent but the thumb of his lifted hand was touched to his ring finger, sign language for the number seven, and their secret sign. It was a show of continued solidarity that the SevenS all reciprocated. They smiled as they signaled their intent to keep each other with their glasses raised in the silent toast.

It was then that Rita Skeeter found them and Hermione first had occasion to practice reverse legillimency. The foul woman had heard about Severus accepting the Headmaster appointment, but opened with her usual nasty insinuations to no one's surprise.

"It's a new year, and I think you've forgotten who you're messing with," Hermione said with a quiet but clear warning. This statement was augmented by Kingsley returning to their table at that exact moment. Hermione could see the wheels turning in Rita's mind. She stood to let Kingsley re-enter the booth and took the opportunity to make sure the meddling menace understood her, "Consider everyone at this table mine and watch yourself. I won't take any measures if you stick to the facts, but keep your lying, poisonous quill off us. I haven't forgotten certain things, and I have a letter you left at Bathilda Bagshot's, proving that you were the last person meddling with her before this happened…." Hermione projected the image of the great snake pouring itself out of Bathida's body.

Rita blanched then ran just outside the door and heaved everything out of her stomach.

Hermione staggered to her seat, exhausted by the effort of the reverse legillimency.

"Did you just show her what I think you showed her?" Harry asked. "I didn't think you'd seen that."

"I saw it and now she's seen it too." Hermione replied.

"You've managed reverse legillimency, I take it?" Severus asked. "It appears you'll need more practice before Australia. That nearly wiped you out. What did you project?"

Harry pushed away his plate. "Don't answer that while we're sitting at the table."

Hermione looked at disgust at what was left on her own plate and shook her head, "I'll explain later," she said.

Kingsley grimaced then smirked. "I was away from the table just now and heard no evidence of blackmail whatsoever. Still," he dropped his voice, "if you've the means to keep that woman curbed, you have my unofficial and wholehearted approval. It's hard to rebuild the world with the lies and furor she spreads to tear it down again."


	11. Down Under

CHAPTER 11: Down Under

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 ****I don't own these characters or the stories they belong to**

* * *

"To love at all is to be vulnerable. Love anything and your heart will be wrung and possibly broken. If you want to make sure of keeping it intact you must give it to no one, not even an animal. Wrap it carefully round with hobbies and little luxuries; avoid all entanglements. Lock it up safe in the casket or coffin of your selfishness. But in that casket, safe, dark, motionless, airless, it will change. It will not be broken; it will become unbreakable, impenetrable, irredeemable. To love is to be vulnerable."

― C.S. Lewis, The Four Loves

S~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

When Hermione told him why Rita Skeeter was so wary of her, Severus felt twin compulsions to laugh outright and keep a wary eye out. He remembered back to Marietta Edgecombe's permanently fixed SNEAK pustules and decided it was not wise to get on Hermione Granger's bad side. She was the more dangerous for being normally, a rule-following, kind person who wouldn't dream of blackmail, ruthless revenge and imprisoning people in jars. Hermione had depths which were well hidden until one incited her anger. It made it easy to under-estimate her, and Severus counted himself lucky that despite the years of treating her despicably, he had escaped with nothing worse than flaming robes.

Hermione also showed him the memory that had so unsettled the bug reporter, and Severus was glad she had heeded Harry's advice not to show him in the presence of food. He had seen a lot of truly horrible things in the course of being a Death Eater, but he'd never seen anything like that detested snake pouring itself out the mouth of a corpse it had animated to a semblance of life, discarding the rotting body to collapse onto the floor like a sack. And it had been such a close call for Harry and Hermione. He didn't know of many who could have kept their heads and escaped as she had done.

"That probably wasn't the best idea," Hermione said afterward. "Especially as it was that particular snake. You look white as a sheet. Here," she said, handing him a cup of tea followed by a bar of chocolate.

' _Yes, it was that particular snake,_ ' Severus thought as he drank the proffered tea and accepted the chocolate. He was sure that little viewing wouldn't improve his nightmares any, but he had known that beforehand, and there was no help for it now. There was no way to un-see it or bury it deep enough that it would never come to mind save obliviation, and he had no wish to go that route. Surprisingly, Hermione's reverse legillimency augmenting his own had yielded a whole other layer of flavor to the memory. He didn't want to see that memory in vivid detail again, but he found he wanted to see others by the same method.

And so, practicing both with the aid of his legillimency and without, she showed him memories of their year on the run, their break-ins at the Ministry and Gringotts, her impersonation of Bellatrix and their infamous dragon escape, their narrow escape at the Lovegoods, Ron's departure, and Ron's return. Hermione refused to show him the memory of his rescue. By the tone of voice and look on her face when she refused, Severus understood that it still upset her, and though it piqued his curiosity, it also made him a bit wary and he decided to employ patience and bide his time on the matter. She did show him memories that he asked about from their years at Hogwarts, their adventures with the Cerberus and the obstacle course of protections, the sending off of Hagrid's pet dragon, brewing Polyjuice potion and the basilisk, their time-turner rescue of Black and the battle of the Department of Mysteries.

It was a good thing they had survived all of that, the foolhardy, senseless little idiots. If he'd have known about any of it at the time, he'd have locked them up, Albus be damned. He threatened to do just that if they even thought about getting up to any adventures during their last year. All three of them assured them that all they wanted was a nice, quiet year; else they'd have never known one the whole of their time at Hogwarts. They seemed excited about the novelty of the idea.

"Yes, please. Let's no one try to kill Harry this year," Ron said with a sigh.

Severus snorted and rolled his eyes.

The reconstruction of Spinners End wrapped up just in time for the trip to Australia in the beginning of August. Hermione had not yet mastered reverse legillimency to the point the desired results would be affected in this one trip. She hadn't enough staying power to project more than one or two memories at a time without exhausting herself completely, but she had mastered a subtlety of projection that could leave you almost thinking you had simply recalled a forgotten memory.

There was some hope of doing just enough to trigger her parent's own memories that were buried and locked up by the obliviation. It did happen sometimes that suppressed memories worked themselves loose if they were strong enough, as had been the case with Barty Crouch, Sr. This was the hope they were riding on. They couldn't risk the damage that might result from more forceful methods.

Harry told Severus he hadn't realized the extent of what Hermione had done until observing all their research on how to reverse it, and Hermione reminding him of Lockhart and what had happened to Bertha Jorkins when Riddle reversed her obliviation. Severus confided to Harry that the obliviates on Rowle and Dolohov at the café had been so strong that even the Dark Lord hadn't been able to break through them without breaking his Death Eaters to the point of uselessness. He and Harry shared a look of concern over that.

Hermione was a ball of irrepressible nervous energy as they made their way to the Ministry for the international portkey that Shacklebolt had secured for them. Severus found it highly irritating, but as he could understand the cause, he tried to curb his irritation.

Harry seemed fairly immune to it. "She get's like this every time exams roll around," he explained. Severus' lip curled at the idea.

Kingsley had been in communication with the Australian Ministry for Magic who had found Hermione's parents and were aware of the situation. This negated the chance of him, Hermione and Harry entangling themselves with a foreign ministry for doing magic in the presence of Muggles. The only worry, really, was first contact and how Helen and Daniel Granger would react to their daughter.

Hermione wanted the first meeting with her parents to be on somewhat neutral ground and not in their home.

"That way it'll feel more like reconnaissance. I just want to get the lay of the land and see if anything has broken through, and if it hasn't it won't be as bad when they treat me like some random person if I'm not home with them," she said. It sounded like she was trying to convince herself of that last bit.

Neither Harry nor Severus had much of a basis for judging this, so they went along with her plan. After checking in with the Australian Ministry person Kingsley had put them in contact with, they travelled to her parent's dental practice and Hermione confunded the receptionist into scheduling her for an appointment the next day.

Hermione fell apart that night after they had eaten and checked into their rooms at the hotel. They thought they had calmed her nerves enough that she would sleep, but just as Harry and Severus were about to settle into their beds, Hermione came knocking on their door. Time alone in her room had evidently done her no good; she looked awful. Barely had she sat on Harry's bed before the fidgets gave way to crying. Severus was incredulous when Harry took that as his cue to get dressed and leave him with a weepy Hermione. He didn't know what to do. It wasn't like he could hand her a handkerchief and send her off to Poppy. He sat next to her and handed her a tissue. When she curled up into his chest he put his arm around her awkwardly. He was ready to throttle Harry when he returned until he realized Harry came bearing a cure of sorts.

"Here, Hermione. Drink up," he told her, handing her an insulated cup that smelled like rich, hot chocolate. "Found a coffee shop round the corner that was open."

When Harry sat down next to her, Severus took the opportunity of extricating himself.

"Why'd you schedule this for this week, anyway?" Harry asked her after she took a few drinks.

She glared at him for a moment. "Are you suggesting I'm incapable of functioning?" she bit out.

"Have I ever?" Harry answered dryly. "I like to keep my head where it is, thanks."

After a moment, Hermione seemed to crumple in on herself. "I didn't even think about it," she said miserably.

Severus didn't understand what it referred to until Harry asked him if he had a pain potion on him.

Harry handed that to her also. "Here, take this too and lay down. Hand me your key, will you?"

Hermione complied. She handed over her key, laid down and curled up into a ball on her side. A moment of gazing around the room must have satisfied her that they wouldn't leave her alone, because she closed her eyes and drifted off to sleep almost immediately.

Harry stepped a bit off to the side with Severus. "She's usually not that bad…unless there's… extenuating circumstances of some sort," he explained. "I'll go kip in the other room and swap her in the morning."

Severus' eyebrows rose. "Oh, relax. She's exhausted – already out of it." Harry was gone before Severus could even offer to make the switch.

He sighed and went over to check on Hermione before crawling into his own bed. He lifted a stray lock off of her face, drew the blankets over her and sighed. She was the most troublesome thing sometimes.

That assessment didn't change the next day. In fact, it gained more dimension. However much their friendship drove him to accept, be patient, and even empathize, witnessing the burgeoning recognition in the elder Granger's eyes brought home to him how foreign Hermione was. The day made it clear that Hermione had been brought up with love and acceptance. Nothing of their differences had ever seemed so alien.

Harry went with Hermione to her appointment with her mother, ostensibly as traveling, backpacking teens; Severus followed under the invisibility cloak.

Severus noted right off a forthright kindness to Helen Jean Granger which had been paltry and beaten into submission in his own mother, much as she had tried.

"I don't know," Hermione said after Helen looked into her mouth. "It was all swollen and painful yesterday; I couldn't even bear to travel to our next lodging." The concern Hermione felt over the whole situation made her lie seem almost plausible.

"Well, it looks just fine now," her mother said kindly. "Before you go, I'll get my husband, Dr. Wendell Wilkins, to double check you just to make sure I haven't missed anything."

Daniel Granger did the same confused double take that Hermione's mother had done upon first seeing Hermione. There couldn't have been a bigger difference between Hermione's father and his own angry, drunken, abusive one, Severus mused. If anything, Dr. Granger was even kinder than his wife. He engaged Hermione and Harry in friendly banter as he checked on Hermione.

"It all looks good to me too," he said when he finished. "In fact, your teeth look in extraordinarily good condition. You must have an excellent dentist at home," he laughed.

Hermione's smile lit her face. "Oh, I do! Drs. Daniel and Helen Granger are wonderful! They're my parents."

They didn't notice Hermione's look of anxious hope for their own brief moment of confusion. Hermione took the opportunity to project a few memories. At this, they appeared to go wit wandering. Daniel Granger leaned against the counter and Harry directed Helen to a chair when she wobbled. Amongst the overriding looks of confused introspection shot brief looks of bemusement and wonder.

"Hermione?" her mother asked confused after a moment, squinting and moving her head slightly as if trying to get it to work right.

One of the assistants came in and broke the spell with a question.

Hermione's father collected himself and gave a strained smile as he left the room. Her mother started to ask, "Do we...have we met before?"

Hermione smiled. "It feels like it, doesn't it? I know you have clinic to finish, but do you think we could meet you for dinner after...talk some more?"

"I...yes, I think..that would be nice," her Mum said. She invited Hermione and her friends (she and Harry explained Severus as being in the lobby) over to dine and they left after arrangements were made.

Watching the Grangers interact at dinner, it was obvious that Hermione fit well with her parents, she'd had a good relationship with them and belonged in a tangible way. They were kind, not only to Hermione and Harry but to Severus, the oddment of the bunch, as well. Their easy discourse ranged through a wide variety of academic and personal topics, and it was easy to see where certain of Hermione's tendencies came from.

They barely had an inkling that she was theirs, and already there had been hints of love and wonder tossed in with their innate kindness. Even if they never regained their memories fully, Severus had a feeling they would be moved to adopt Hermione as family as Hermione had done with her housemates. The only danger now lay in possible anger once they realized the extent of what had happened.

Hermione decided to let the memories do their slow work. She didn't push any new information, but suggested a correspondence, which thankfully, Kingsley had also made arrangements for through the Australian Muggle Liaison Office.

"I've got a friend here who can forward mail without the overseas charge. Here," Hermione wrote out:

Hermione Granger  
c/o MLO  
1535 Delian Lane  
Sydney NSW 2000  
Australia

Hermione's parents seemed thrilled by the idea of keeping in touch with her. They wished her well on her last school year and bid them all a kind goodbye.

Severus felt at odds with himself. Part of him was glad for Hermione's sake, but part of him was less so. Somewhere along the way he had laid claim to Hermione in some way without even realizing it, and now that part of him felt threatened. Eventually, she would get her parents back and wouldn't need him to lean on anymore. And that would leave him...where he had been. He would never stand in the way of Hermione's relationship with her parents. He would just have to readjust. The prospect already had him backing up figuratively.

Severus caught Harry's speculative look and feared he had read more of his thoughts than Severus had meant for him to. Friends or not, these Gryffindor children were making him entirely too soft. He strengthened his occlumency shields and maintained them on the trip home.


	12. Readjustment

CHAPTER 12: Readjustment

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 **** I don't own these characters or the stories they belong to****

* * *

"Torment in the dark was the danger that I feared, and it did not hold me back. But I would not have come, had I known the danger of light and joy."

J.R.R. Tolkien

H~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Severus was more reserved and cautious after Australia. Hermione wasn't sure if this was in preparation for his impending encore as Headmaster or if it was driven by something else, but it worried her. Whatever it was, he circumvented questions and never brought it up. She decided that badgering him about it would be the opposite of helpful and opted to act as if everything were normal. Unless he pushed her away outright, she would carry on and hope for the best. It was the only thing she could do. Thankfully, he seemed to thaw a little after the first chill, but she kept a close eye on him.

Severus joined the boys in the Grimmauld Place renovations through the next couple of weeks before he was due at Hogwarts. His mood always seemed a bit better after a day of physical exertion. Time with her either made it better or worse, which was confusing. Minerva met with him frequently, and he seemed ambivalent about returning to Hogwarts as well.

Hermione could admit that she felt the same. She was still trying to reconnect to her old self. Her love of learning and all or nothing nature would likely take over and get her through the school year, but she felt incomplete in a way that had nothing to do with knowledge or books. Probably it had to do with the process of healing and the need for purpose, but she was coming more and more to feel that it had to do with Severus, which given the readjustment of their living status and his recent move toward withdrawal and walling her out, frightened her a great deal. She was glad to be going back to the place that had been like home for so many years, but she had a sense that it would be different in ways that she didn't even understand yet. Only time would tell whether it would feel like a familiar comfort or make her feel out of place.

These thoughts plagued her on the train ride to school. This in itself was all at once familiar and surreal. It reminded her of the second book in the Narnia series, when the Pevensie's, after having grown up in Narnia and fought many battles, returned to England, children once more, and struggled with their new place in the scheme of things. She could tell that feeling was shared by many on the train, and this kept her from feeling too out of place.

The welcoming feast was the same - horrible memories overlapped beloved places in the castle they called home. The weight was augmented by the uncertainty of the students regarding the Headmaster and the feeling of loss when those who should've been sitting beside them were missed. It was lightened by the sight of friends sitting in their familiar places and the normalcy of the staff gazing at them from the high table. The holes were horrible, but Hermione was heartened at the sight of Neville, Luna, Ginny, Minerva, Severus, Hagrid, and the other staff and remaining DA members sitting in their customary places.

During his welcome speech, Severus lifted his goblet and offered a heartfelt remembrance for those who were missing among them. It moved more than the SevenS who recognized the gesture as familiar. He said just enough to let them know to judge his intentions by this year and not last, but remained true to his private self. There were those who retained their angry, suspicious glares, but Hermione was glad to see that many wore a 'we'll see' expression and a few even looked accepting and supportive. Whatever happened this year, she was determined that Severus would not feel alone.

The 8th years had been given a wing of their own. They were situated in groups of three or four rooms to an adjoining small common room, like uni flats – only these had portraits with passwords for an entrance. There was also a larger common room for the wing and each of the 8th years were welcome to go to their house common rooms as well. Severus had taken their input on the set up and they were well pleased with it. He had kept the three of them together in one of the apartments and complied with their request to connect the fireplace in their common room to the Headmaster's office by floo. It was perhaps unusual, but only to those who were unaware of the summer they had shared together with Severus as a housemate. Surprisingly, Minerva had argued for the connection as well. They had worked out a signal system so that they could signal a request and signal back whether the coast was clear before anyone stepped through – thus avoiding any reason for tales of favoritism to be bandied about.

Severus and Minerva had also consulted with them about the Head Boy and Girl positions. As much as Hermione had once had her sights set on Head Girl, she neither wanted to take the opportunity away from the 7th year class nor felt like it was necessary given all that she had already accomplished. All Harry and Ron wanted to do was play one last year of quidditch. The Head positions, therefore, stayed within the 7th years, but two special prefect positions had been created for the 8th years so they could oversee their own year and act as back up to the Heads.

By unanimous vote, the Professors chose Hermione for the 8th year girl special prefect. They tried to choose Harry as her counterpart, but he declined on grounds that the quidditch captaincy he had accepted was enough. Severus nominated Draco Malfoy, feeling that restoration and not ostracism of Slytherin house was necessary to correcting rhetoric and preventing the rise of another dark lord, and while the Professors and the trio agreed to help him with this, in the end, because of his outstanding leadership the year previous, Neville was chosen.

After everyone was settled, Hermione stepped through the fireplace to Severus' office after use of their signals. He looked tired but fairly content.

"I liked your speech," she said.

His lip lifted a bit at the corner. "I'm glad you think it passed muster."

She smiled brightly at him. "You know it did. I'm quite proud of you," she teased. "We missed you this week. The boys don't seem able to put things together quite as easily without you to help them. It was rather amusing, actually."

Severus snorted and smiled a bit. "I have been far too busy to miss you meddlesome lot…..Did they finish the sitting room flooring and trim?"

Hermione grinned at him. "I know you've been busy, but I don't believe you, you know." She grabbed his hand and tried to coax him out of his chair toward the fireplace. "And yes they did, but only because I helped them figure out what to put where. They'll have to do the trim and moulding later."

His lip lifted in amusement again before a moue of distaste took over. "It is late and I still have much to do."

"So bring it with you…and I'll help. No homework yet," she explained. "You should start as you mean to go on…and we had a deal."

He rolled his eyes but she could tell that he was also pleased. He grabbed a pile of papers off his desk, his ink and his quill and turned to Dumbledore's portrait. "You'll alert me if anyone comes?"

"Yes, dear boy. Good to see you again, Miss Granger. Give my best to Harry and Ronald, won't you? I'll be sure to visit later." the portrait said. Conveniently there was a small portrait in their common room that Dumbledore shared. Severus had planned well.

Hermione smiled and nodded. She could tell that Severus seemed to relax in their common room, even though he was doing "tedious, tiresome paperwork."

When he realized that Hermione had a gift for speeding through mundane paperwork with little need of direction or supervision, he threatened to conscript her for the rest of the year. "Shacklebolt may have been right about you. Keep this up, and I'll be disinclined to give you up or share you, even with Boy Wonder or the Ginger-Haired Menace."

"I've already told them I'm not doing their homework for them this year," she said.

Ron grumbled. "That's just not right. And I still don't get why I'm the Ginger-Haired Menace…what does that make George?"

Harry snorted. "Sounds like a comic book: Boy Wonder and the Ginger-Haired Menace. On the off chance Luna knows what one is, don't let her hear his nicknames for us. Eccentric ideas and access to a printing press - can you imagine?" he asked Hermione.

Hermione laughed, but she Harry and Severus had to explain what a comic book was to Ron.

"That's brilliant!" he exclaimed. "Maybe we should tell her, reckon?"

This time Harry groaned. "Please, no. I'm sorry I brought it up."

They talked for a little while longer about how they were doing with the move back to Hogwarts and making arrangements to meet up with Severus from time to time. Severus soon ordered them to bed and bid them goodnight.

"Yeah, especially as Little-Miss-Insane, maybe that should be your new nickname, is taking almost every N.E.W.T. class that's offered, and has a VERY BIG day tomorrow. Honestly, Hermione, how do you expect to enjoy your last year here when you've taken on enough to do yourself in? Riddle wasn't enough? You've got to chase death by N.E.W.T. prep now?"

Hermione gave him her half grin and shook her head. Then she turned her grin to Severus. "It is a lot," she teased. "A time turner would make things much easier."

"No time turners!" Severus and Harry said at the same time.

She laughed at this. "Night boys," she said. She walked over to Severus, handed him her pile of parchment and kissed him on the cheek. Quietly she said, "You'd best find something to keep them busy if you don't want them getting into bored mischief or turning into sloths."

"Hey!" Harry and Ron said.

"I have already taken measures," he said sharing a conspiratorial smile with Hermione. The boys looked concerned.

It turned out Severus had made Harry and Ron had aids to Professor Martin, an Australian Auror who came to Hogwarts to be the new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher. In addition to this, they were heading the DA with Neville, which Severus had made mandatory to help students catch up in DADA. Kingsley also came by from time to time to visit and offer them training. Between this and quidditch they were keeping busy and loving it.

Hermione was glad to see them happy and congratulated Severus on his genius several times. Her own load was heavy, but she was used to doing as much with the addition of whatever research and extracurricular activity that was needed to keep them alive each year. She found she had time both to excel in her studies and ensure they spent time with Severus through the week.

She still had trouble anticipating his level of acceptance, and the stress of his position only made him more mercurial. When his mood allowed it she chatted with him about his day and sometimes even massaged his head and neck. When her overtures didn't budge him from a distant and cross mood, she either sat in a corner and helped him quietly with his paperwork or gave him space. They both missed physical exertion, and she sometimes joined him on his frequent robust patrolling strolls through the castle or outdoor ones on the path round the lake.

One evening mid October, Hermione bid Severus goodbye after strolling with him a bit through the castle. Such had been witnessed by a couple of 5th year Hufflepuff boys whom she had categorized as members of the antagonistic crowd. It was amazing what a year of torture could turn a Hufflepuff into, any of them really.

"How can you stand to associate with that filth?" they sneered. "We thought you were all right, but we're starting to wonder."

In high dudgeon she answered, "Maybe because I know him better than you do...I know what he did to save my life, all our lives. I was in the Order with him and I know we wouldn't have won the war without him. I was there...were you?" she asked, knowing these two had not been among those who had fought in the final battle.

"We were here last year...you weren't," one of them blustered. "You don't know the torture he put us under."

"You think I don't know torture?" she asked, her voice flat and mocking. She pulled up her sleeve so that the angry, red word MUDBLOOD could be read on her arm, and untucked her shirt so the bottom of an obviously extensive scar could be seen on her stomach. I can assure you from personal experience that Bellatrix Lestrange could out crucio anyone, even the Carrows, perhaps even Riddle himself, according to Harry. Maybe you would have preferred her as Headmaster last year? She could have been you know, if Severus Snape hadn't played his role."

Their eyes were now a bit wide. She advanced on them. "Don't let me hear you discuss Headmaster Snape again until you grow brains. Now get out of here, the both of you!"

She was still fuming with her shirt untucked, her wand in her hand and her hair frizzing out with the static of her anger when she heard a familiar, deep voice behind her.

"Such a fierce little lioness," he said as he materialized from the dark and looked down at her with a mixture of amusement and confusion.

Her anger began to melt as she saw him again.

"Why is it that you are such a fierce and dangerous predator when someone else is maligned and only a miffed little kitten when you are the subject of unflattering speech?" he asked.

Hermione answered him, "Because I'm used to it and I can handle it."

"As can I," Severus assured her.

"And because I care about you," she admitted. "I can't change everyone's mind, but I'm not about to stand by and accept what I can confront."

A serious moment passed between them. His eyes darkened as he gazed at her. After a moment he looked away and small grimace of pain crossed his features with the movement of his neck.

"I thought the numbing salve was working," Hermione said with concern. It had been hard for him to adjust to his collars and frock coat again with the pain and sensitivity that remained in his neck.

"It does for the most part...It requires reapplication during the day and I have been remiss," he explained.

She looked up at him wishing there was something she could do to help him.

His gaze softened as he looked down at her. "You would battle that too, if being a lioness would help anything, wouldn't you?"

"Yes," she answered quietly. Concern turned to a fluttering sensation in her stomach as their eyes held. Hermione covered it with a bright smile.

"Off with you then. Go take care of yourself before I get all overprotective," she teased.

"I'll thank you to remember I am no longer your patient," Severus quipped.

She quirked an eyebrow at him as if to say, 'Keep telling yourself that if you think it'll change anything."

Severus ignored this. "Goodnight, Hermione. Heed your own advice and take care of yourself. I'll see you tomorrow."

Hermione watched him walk away, silently as ever, and tried to calm her heart. What was wrong with her? As denial gave way, she knew what it was - her feelings for Severus had crossed a line. A line she now realized they had been skirting for a while, and she couldn't help but feel hopeless. Hermione knew she was something like a niece to him and he was already withdrawn from her half the time as it was. She hadn't backed away soon enough, and now there was no way this was going to end well for her. The only possible good outcome hinged on Severus coming to feel the same way she did and that only made her snort derisively at herself. "You. Are. An. Idiot, Hermione Granger," she told herself as shuffled back toward her apartment.


	13. If I should lose myself

CHAPTER 13: If I Should Lose Myself

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 **** I don't own these characters or the stories they belong to****

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 **"** **Anger is the fluid that love bleeds when it gets cut."**

 **C.S. Lewis**

H~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Time with Severus was now a beautiful torture. Hermione had become adept at hiding her soaring and fluttering insides with laughter and smiles – or so she'd thought. Harry, though, had begun giving her funny looks…and if Harry was on to her, she was giving more away than she was keeping hidden, and Severus would notice soon enough. That would likely push Severus away from the friendship they had…and that would kill her.

Distance. She needed some, quick. And she had the perfect project in mind. Something that would give her enough distance to get a grip while doing something she needed to do for Severus. She knew that his neck wound, especially, still pained him, still marred his remarkable voice, and made it difficult for him to eat. She couldn't stand to not do anything about that, especially after coming across some information that made her think it possible a cure could be found. It wasn't running away, not really. The timing was fortuitous, that's all.

Hermione tried to maintain a balance, not wanting Severus to think she was avoiding him or that she'd given up on his friendship. She kept most of the SevenS appointed get togethers and even fished him from his office on most of these occasions, but as the weeks progressed she became more and more engrossed in her project, and she became negligent in this regard. She kept hitting frustrating roadblocks, but every one of them put her a little closer to the answer.

Harry cornered her in the library one day.

"Alright, Hermione?" he asked.

She sighed. "I suppose…maybe...ask me when I finish this project. It's driving me insane. The answer is hiding just out of sight, I know it!"

"What are you working on anyway?"

Hermione shoved her journal across the table toward him. After looking through her notes, Harry looked up, "You're trying to heal his bite wounds?"

She nodded, her gaze far away. "They still hurt him," she explained.

"I know," Harry sighed. "Impressive…hope you find a way. I suppose you're keeping it quiet from him until you figure it out…in case you don't."

Hermione nodded again, her thoughts and gaze still abstract.

"There's more to it, isn't there?" Harry asked with a knowing look.

Hermione finally swung around to look at him. She gave a sort of self-deprecating huff and looked away again. "You could say that." Her inner turmoil finally animated her to life. "It's utterly ridiculous, Harry! He'd never…even I can't imagine...he's been walling me out more than half the time since Australia anyway," she said, waving her hand up and down, miming a wall in agitation.

Harry squinted his eyes at her. "Hermione, why do you think that started after Australia?"

"He found me annoying, I expect. Let's not forget my embarrassing, hormonal crying jag. If my nerves didn't put him off, that was sure to do it."

"I don't think that's it," Harry said.

Hermione looked at him with disbelief.

Harry chuckled quietly. "I'm not saying it didn't annoy or horrify him a bit…but he didn't start getting that look or distancing himself until he saw you with your parents."

"After my parents? What…why would that put him off?" she questioned.

Harry shook his head at her a bit. "Hermione, for someone who usually sees so much, sometimes you're really obtuse. There you were, getting your parents back. I'm sure he was wondering what that would mean for him."

Hermione still looked confused. "You think he was worried I'd blow him off when I got my parents back? Why would he…I wouldn't…he's the only one…"

"That get's that humongous brain of yours…I know," Harry said. "But Mum blew him off, Hermione, and now you sort of are too."

Hermione looked at him, distraught. "I'm not…it's just this project.." Harry gave her a look. "And I was afraid he'd see and be so horrified he'd run away and I'd lose his friendship altogether. I promised, Harry. I promised I wouldn't ask more of him than he wanted to give." She felt near tears again.

"I'm sure it's worse for him to think you're blowing him off than that you're wanting more than he does…he's gotten way worse in the last few weeks already…and are you so sure it couldn't happen…later maybe?" Harry asked.

"I'll be more careful," Hermione promised. "I've almost figured it out anyway – I'm sure of it!" She gave Harry a gauging look and ignored the latter part of his question, too afraid to open the door of hope. "When did you get to be Mr. Discernment anyway?"

Harry laughed. "I guess you and Ginny had to rub off on me sometime. Don't tell anyone I've gone and joined the girl club, though. It's only because I know you so well, probably."

"Speaking of…How are you and Ginny doing?" Hermione asked.

"Good. We're going slower this time…after Fred and everything that happened. Auror training's going to be intense the first couple of years and Gin wants to try for the Holyhead Harpies. It's a long term plan, but she's stuck with me,"

Hermione smiled back at him. "That's good...Thanks, Harry."

Five days later she bounded into Severus' office ecstatically, full of joy and thrilled at her accomplishment.

"Severus, I think I've got it!" she exclaimed.

Her enthusiasm was doused immediately. Dread replaced it. Severus had been pacing, but now he turned his glittering, angry eyes her direction and snarled, "Control yourself, Miss Granger." He advanced on her and pointed toward the door, "Go. Away. I have no need or

time for your...over-familiarity. Make an appointment if you think it ab-so-lute-ly necessary."

He was done with her. It was obvious in his tone.

Hermione stood, petrified by the shock of his rejection, her breath and her heart…gone, her eyes fixed and tingling. _'Please, no!'_ her mind wailed. She blinked and raised her eyes to his, searching for some sign to justify hope. There was nothing. He was cold and occluded…and absolutely certain. As her heart stuttered and beat in frantic denial, she steeled herself to accept the limit that he'd drawn. She wrested her face from a grimace of pain to a blank expression and nodded once. A pathetic squeak sounded in her throat as she gulped back tears, and tremors wracked her body as she fought back the waves of sorrow and loss. She turned and headed for the door with jerking movements.

Hermione paused when she reached the door and looked down at the journal in her shaking hands. It was blurred by the silent tears that pooled in her eyes and escaped down her slack face. She shut it all down and threw the journal in the bin by the door before she left.

Hours later, Harry found her sitting at the top of the astronomy tower. She didn't look him in the face, she hadn't anyone on the way here either, but she put her finger to her lips in a shushing motion and patted the ground beside her. His familiar presence was welcome, but she didn't want to talk or listen. It would distract her from the nothing, the abstract space where she could take in the silence and the sky obliquely and just be without breaking. She sat with him, letting the intermittent tremors run their course, letting her body cry so that she wouldn't. It was the only way she knew to hold herself together.

Harry didn't ask, she didn't answer – he knew the answer anyway.

The floodgate of her nightmares and worst memories had burst open with her upset over Severus. Hermione cleared her mind as much as she could and focused on the nothing, but she was still barely coping. It was hard enough keeping up with the things she knew she ought to care about. She knew she couldn't add a Severus who had rejected her into the mix of things to deal with right now – it would tear her protections down completely.

For his sake, Hermione asked the boys not to be mad at Severus and to keep him in company, but Hermione herself avoided him, avoided their common room when she knew he had free time, avoided the halls or hid herself completely from notice when she knew he might traverse them, studied in lonely forgotten places of the castle, ate elsewhere and avoided looking at the staff table when she did eat in the Great Hall. Harry and Ron learned to sit by her quietly. Hermione let them hug her and sit near her talking to each other, but she didn't want to talk. She researched and revised, did her homework and answered questions when her Professors called on her, but she was faltering.

She existed mechanically, putting up a façade to avoid more probing questions. It was paltry. Her school mates, if anything became more wary of the coldness with which she dispensed justice and punishment and walked the halls. Harry eventually cornered her and asked, "Hermione, what are you doing?"

"Keeping afloat, keeping my promise," she answered in a dead, flat voice. It was the only question she had answered on the subject.

She answered only one more. "And what if he wants to apologize?" Harry followed up.

The truth was, she didn't know the answer to that. It wasn't that she was mad at Severus. She had been hurt, partially of her own fear and making, but now she was lost to herself. She felt too far gone, too cornered by horrors, too dead inside for it to do any good, save there was a possibility a discussion with Severus could thaw the coldness that was holding her together, and as bad as things were now, if that happened, it could be even worse. If Severus needed to apologize, she would let him, eventually, if she ever rediscovered enough of herself for him to talk to. "Maybe later, Harry, but not yet. I'm not mad, but I'm..." she couldn't even find the words so she finished with a shake of her head and a wave of her hand. "Give it some time," she said quietly, before resting her mouth on her hand and staring off into the distance.

Harry seemed to understand the words that she couldn't say. He wrapped her in up in a hug. "Maybe over Christmas break…back at Grimmauld next week?" he asked.

Seclude herself as she did, It was still too much, the requests for her involvement too overwhelming for the blank space inside her, so she took to leaving the castle which was no longer familiar or a comfort. She found that her tree platform was the only place anything like soothing. Those nostalgic moments of beauty that she had talked to Severus about so long ago no longer swept through her, but they at least touched her when nothing else did. Her breaking had been worse than she had ever imagined. She didn't know how to fix herself, but it didn't really concern her...though she knew it should. She had lost herself, lost hope and purpose - and the moments of beauty, dim as they were, provided the only meaning that she could find.

When Fenrir Greyback found her, he found a cold opponent devoid of fear. She fought as one with nothing left to lose, with little care as to winning or losing, and it was this that made her realize how close she was to the brink. Some little fear and concern had returned to her by the time Severus found her, but she was still so lost.


	14. Upon Reflection

CHAPTER 14: Upon Reflection

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 ****I don't own these characters or the stories they belong to****

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"Mr. Thorton love Margaret! Why, Margaret would never think of him, I'm sure! Such a thing has never entered her head."

"Entering her heart would do."

Elizabeth Gaskell, North and South

S~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It had been the worst day, Severus mused. Brawling students to deal with - from three different houses at three different times, a meeting with the board of Governors gone wrong, the staff meeting not much better, a couple of irate parents, a new batch of parchments that nearly obscured his desk, oh and to top it off, Albus bloody Dumbledore, no less meddlesome as a portrait than in life, decided to throw into mix by making *hints* about Miss Granger, the very chit who, within the same week she'd laid waste to his barriers by declaring, ' _I care about you_ ,' after defending him so fiercely, put lie to it all by acting as if she had outgrown the friendship she'd offered him, just as Lily had once done.

Upon later reflection, his sour mood over that last had probably contributed to more than half the bad outcomes of the day...and that wasn't even counting the last, worst one. In fact, things had been going astoundingly well until she had progressed from worming her way uncomfortably close to leaving him bereft with increasing frequency. The more he reflected on what he'd allowed her to do to him, the angrier he got. He'd been pacing his office in angry agitation when the very subject that angry agitation came barreling into his office with an obnoxiously bright face. And that had been it…the flipping of the switch.

It wasn't until Severus drank himself stupid, passed out cold and woke with his head pounding and his shields lowered that he really registered the expressions that had passed across Hermione's face and the emotional impact of what had happened hit him. He sat with his head in his hands and for the second time in his life, cursed his temper. The kicker this time lay not only in the error he had made while in a fit of temper, but in Hermione's response. Whereas Lily's response in essence had been, ' _Fine then, I don't really condone who you are anyway, I'll brush you off shall I_?' Hermione's had been more, ' _Are you sure that's what you really want? Okay, I'll oblige you even if it hurts me.'_

And she kept on obliging him. The problem was he didn't really want her to.

At the point she'd burst in on him, Severus had almost convinced himself that he'd rather her just leave him well enough alone than to be the subject of her wavering attention - and he had been entirely wrong. He knew that now. Much good that realization did him.

What confused him was that Hermione's response was at odds with the way she'd been avoiding him. Was it because, as her response suggested, she still valued him and his rejection hurt her, or was it as the previous weeks suggested, she was done with him but didn't want to face the final music? What were her intentions? It was totally unclear to him and it made him waver.

Even if it turned out she had been done with him but didn't know how to tell him that she'd moved on, she had saved his life and been enough of a friend that he felt bad for the extremity of his reaction. The idea that she had remained his good friend until he'd nailed the lid on the coffin made him feel awful. He was compelled to apologize, but she was making it impossible for him to do so.

Severus sought Hermione out, waited in places he thought it likely she would be, and even stalked the halls at odd times with hopes of catching her out...to no avail. If he'd thought she was avoiding him before, she was showing him the difference now. He could have forced his hand by calling her from class or on one of the rare occasions she came to the Great Hall, ordered a house elf to transport her, or even forced his way into her room...but his confusion and his position stayed his hand from drastic measures. Also, he knew she had a perfectly justifiable reason to avoid him if she wished to.

The few times he caught sight of her, she looked calm enough, if off. Harry assured him that he was keeping an eye on her and she was going to classes and doing her work. Severus waited for her sulk to end, waited for an opening so that he could approach her. And waited, and waited...

Severus saw Harry - they talked. He saw Ron - they played chess. He saw George - they consulted on joke shop products. He even saw Kingsley, with whom he had the most honest discussion on the problem at hand. There wasn't anything Shacklebolt could do, but he was apprised of the situation, and sympathetic...which made Severus feel pathetic. Severus did not see Hermione - except a few times, from a distance. He was beginning to suspect something worse than a sulk.

A week in, his fears and his worries were substantiated when Harry came to his office and plopped in a chair.

"We've not talked about exactly what happened...but it was probably one of two things. I think I need to figure out which one," Harry said seriously.

Severus asked, "What do you know?"

Harry looked at him, deliberating something. "It's bad - worse than I thought. She's not just hurt, she's…it's like she's walking dead. Said she wasn't even mad, and that's unusual for her...it's why she usually acts like this...it's usually what keeps her going. Something is wrong...I've never seen her like this...not even after..." He rested his mouth on his fingers for a moment. "What happened that night? She came here, didn't she? She must have. What did she say?"

"Yes" Severus finally decided to answer. "After weeks of giving every signal of finding my presence...distasteful, she came bounding in at the end of a rather disastrous day and completed the disaster. If I recall correctly, she enthused, 'Severus, I think I've figured it out!' It was the only thing she said before or after I lost my temper."

"She actually did it?" Harry asked, eyes alight. When Severus looked on, uncomprehending, Harry continued, "Did you ever see the brown leather journal she had...did she have it with her that night? I haven't been able to find it, and she never has it with her anymore."

Curious, Severus thought back to that night, and a memory that had been fogged over in anger and then drink rose to greet him. "She threw something in the bin by the door just before she left. It fits the description," Severus answered.

Harry's eyes had grown huge. "She threw it away!?" He pinched his forehead in his hand and swore. And then swore again. Severus was forestalled asking what Hermione had done and what the journal had to do with it when Harry looked up with anger in his eyes and said, "You must have been a horrible git."

Severus worked to quell his own anger and finally nodded in confession. "Given her behavior of the weeks previous I'm surprised she took it so badly."

Harry sighed and shook his head. "I know. It wasn't what you thought though...on two counts. And one of them had to do with that journal. I take it you didn't fish it out of the bin, and the house elves took it out?"

Severus nodded again. Harry immediately called for his house elf and set him the task of tracking down the as yet still mysterious journal.

About that time, Severus' connection to the school wards alerted him that someone had passed through the boundary and left the school. Severus double checked his schedule. None of the staff or 8th years had alerted him of plans to leave this evening. Perhaps one of them had forgotten, but he probably wasn't that lucky. He began to excuse himself to go check on the situation when Harry answered a fire signal and Ronald stepped through the fireplace.

"Hermione's left Hogwarts," he said before he was two steps into the room.

Harry and Severus went over to consult the infamous map which had frequently been their only means of finding Hermione and keeping an eye on her. But now?

"Think she'll come back?" Ron asked.

None of them answered save with looks of concern.

Hermione was technically allowed to go, all of the 8th years were. Ron left occasionally to work with George. Harry sometimes left to visit his godson. They both left with Kingsley from time to time. Leaving wasn't the problem - not informing Head of House or Headmaster beforehand was.

It wasn't like Hermione to not follow the rules…unless she had a very good reason not to. Her infraction was mitigated by Severus knowing that he was the 'reason not to' in this instance, and that Hermione was, at present, not acting her usual self. Hadn't the staff mentioned that she wasn't giving her usual 150%? Severus had tried to placate himself into thinking Hermione was merely off her game temporarily and would come around, but evidence was increasing that indicated very much otherwise. He sent a patronus off to Kingsley.

They waited in his office for hours. Severus' worry rose steadily like an oncoming tide. If he could, he would take it all back and accept whatever limitations or flights of whimsy Hermione imposed on their relationship.

When worry crested the banks, panic began to turn into anger.

"I'm going to wring her neck when she comes back," Severus growled. He was being optimistic that he would have the opportunity. "She's never to leave the castle again, even if she does tell someone beforehand!"

"I wouldn't," said Harry tiredly. "I'm pretty sure she left because I cornered her and asked questions."

"What'd you ask her?" Ron queried.

"What she was doing...said she was keeping afloat and keeping a promise," Harry answered. "Asked her what if keeping her promise wasn't necessary because you wanted to apologize," Harry spoke now to Severus. "Said give it some time. Said she wasn't mad. Just too lost to deal, I think."

"What promise?" Severus asked.

"That she'd never ask you for more than you wanted to give."

Severus felt sick. It must have shown.

Eventually, Hermione returned. They alerted Kingsley and went to bed.

It happened several other times. They kept a close eye on her with the map, portraits, house elves and the invisibility cloak. After Hermione's second jaunt out of the castle, Severus went to the spot she had shown him in the summer. It bore signs of a recent warming charm. He was pacified that at least she was relatively safe in her tree when she went there. He felt better knowing where she was going at least part of the time. But Harry was right, something was definitely wrong. Hermione's demeanor was cold and her eyes were lifeless. She was also tensed for avoidance and flight with the barest hints of encroachment. So they watched, but didn't encroach. Christmas break would start next week and they planned on intervening at Grimmauld Place where she could not hide so easily.

When Kreacher found the journal and Harry left it on his desk to read, Severus scrutinized it with wonder. Only someone with superb research skills and extensive knowledge of arithrimancy, ancient runes, transfiguration, charms, herbology, Muggle science, AND potions could have come up with what she had done. It was brilliant, and she hadn't even submitted it toward her N.E.W.T. level final projects, even though it would satisfy the requirement in no less than six of her classes. Hermione had been busy researching a cure...just for him. No one had ever done half so much. And when she'd figured it out and come to him, he had...rejected her and told her to go away. What had he done? Severus put his head in his hands and mourned.

He was now doubly determined to beg Hermione's forgiveness, groveling if he had to, and planned to do so in the morning before the students boarded the train, if he could catch her, or later at Grimmauld if she avoided him in the morning. Only she left the school late that night...with her trunks...and she didn't show up at Grimmauld Place. The hope that she had gone to Australia to see her parents over Christmas was dashed when they contacted Kingsley. Neither had she been to her tree when Severus checked.

Severus submitted her journal to the pertinent staff who had stayed at Hogwarts for Christmas and holed himself up in his office, hoping desperately that Hermione wasn't lost to him forever, wishing every minute that she would walk through his fireplace or that at least a message would come. He remembered his time with her and wondered why he hadn't sought her honesty, hadn't fought to keep all that he could. He knew why. 'You're a bloody coward, Severus Snape,' he told himself.

A message did come three days later, but it only made him more frantic. Kingsley showed up early in the morning and plopped a newspaper on his desk. The headline read: 'Has Hermione Granger Declared a New War?' The picture on the front page showed Fenrir Greyback trussed in ropes within an inch of his life, lying on the floor of the Ministry Atrium. A note with large letters was pinned to him.

 _"If you don't want to create more like him, reverse the legislation that persecutes his kind.  
If you find him a pleasant addition to society, by all means, carry on.  
HG"_

The article was straight forward, for a Rita Skeeter article, excepting perhaps the headline. If he hadn't been so beside himself with worry, Severus would have smirked.

Kingsley started explaining as soon as Severus looked up at him. "He attacked her. Evidence is he's been tracking her and took advantage of the first opportunity. He scored her." Kingsley held up his hand and hastily explained when Severus bolted from his chair, "Scratched her on the side and back…evidence left under his nails and this" Kingsley held up a vial full of memory. "He didn't bite her as far as we can tell."

As Severus retrieved the Penseive from the cabinet, Kingsley continued. "She was marvelous, but I can see why you've all been concerned - she never looked afraid or like it registered much at all. Bested him, bound him, brought him to the Ministry, put his wand on the welcome desk, summoned magic-binding cuffs from the Aurors' office – which left holes in two doors – pinned a note to him, left her memories in a vial, and stood guard over him until the first person showed up at the Ministry – then took off." He pointed to the note. "Remus would've been proud," he smirked.

"Where is she?" Severus asked as he poured the memory into the stone basin.

"Left by floo to the Leaky Cauldron then apparated away. She's gone to ground. Haven't been able to track her down yet," Kingsley said. Worry clouded his voice.

"She's quite adept at that after last year," Severus said and then dived in to the memory.

Shacklebolt had been right: She was marvelous, fearless…and it was all wrong. She was devoid of so much more that fear. The cold of her absolute occlumency shields was palpable even in the memory.

"Do you think you can find her, my friend? Bring her back?" Kingsley asked.

Severus nodded. "I won't give up until I do."


	15. The Tempest

CHAPTER 15: The Tempest

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 ****I don't own these characters or the stories they belong to****

A/N - I've got one more big paper to finish for my summer class and then I'll get back on track...sorry for the slowdown

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"At other times it feels like being mildly drunk, or concussed. There is a sort of invisible blanket between the world and me. I find it hard to take in what anyone says. Or perhaps, hard to want to take it in. It is so uninteresting. Yet I want the others to be about me. I dread the moments when the house is empty. If only they would talk to one another and not to me."

C.S. Lewis, A Grief Observed

S~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

She was standing on the edge of the platform with her arms wrapped around herself when the pop of apparition sounded. Only one person would know to find her here. Hermione turned to verify that it was him. It was - pale skin, long nose, dark robes, dark hair, startlingly dark, intense eyes and all. It jumbled her insides, but she didn't know precisely what she thought or felt.

Severus looked at her warily as if he was afraid she was about to jump. Hermione felt the barest hint of confusion and dark humor at that. She turned back to face the void. After a moment he recalled her from it. His presence at her back warmed her and his hands on her shoulders spun her gently around. Severus brushed a strand of hair out of her face with his long, graceful fingers and cupped her cheek gently in his hand . His gaze, his touch and his words cracked something in her and she felt tears well up from somewhere she thought had dried up.

"Come here, little one," he said, and she allowed herself to be pulled into his embrace. It was gentle at first and then tight, almost desperate feeling. "I'm so sorry, Hermione. Please don't leave again," he said and she felt him kiss the top of her head which was tucked under his chin. "Please don't leave me again." This was said more quietly.

"I don't know how to come back," she said miserably.

"I know," Severus said. He looked at her again. "You're cold…and hurt. Will you come to Poppy with me?"

Hermione stiffened and shook her head. "No….not yet…please?"

Severus nodded his acceptance, cast cushioning and warming charms and sent a Patronus message. "Will you allow me?" he asked, indicating the sliced fabric at her side and back.

When she nodded numbly, he helped her take off her coat and lifted her shirt just high enough to see her back and side.

"You should have gotten dittany on these sooner." He sounded gentle but he looked angry.

Hermione glanced down and saw four parallel marks running across her side and, she presumed, to her back. It felt like it when the dittany caused them to hiss and burn. She shrugged.

Severus sighed and repaired her clothes before helping her put her coat on and tugging her by the hand to come sit with him. She was mildly surprised when he once again said, "Come here, little one," sat and tugged her down with him, practically in his lap. Then he cupped her face in both his hands, looked her in the eyes and said, "Take your shields down, Hermione. I'll…catch you. I promise I'm not going anywhere and I won't send you away…ever again." It was almost a whisper.

She searched his dark eyes that swirled with emotion. He brushed away the silently brimming tears softly with his thumbs, and then she felt him in her mind. He gently but relentlessly helped and sometimes made her take down the shields that had been damming the flood. His presence, both physical and mental was the closest thing she'd felt to home in weeks. If he hadn't been there to anchor her to shore when the walls came down, Hermione knew she would have been swept away. As it was, she felt completely overwhelmed.

Hermione didn't realize until Severus pulled her close against him and began speaking soothing, shushing words to her that she was sobbing and making noises like a wounded animal. She grabbed him closer and he let her.

H~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Severus may not have had any experience with comforting anyone in this way, but at the moment, he was so selfishly glad to have found Hermione that cradling her in his arms felt like the most natural thing in the world. He actually had an impulse to never let her go. If it wasn't for the broken sounds she was making, it would have been better, but he was thankful even for those. Even if it physically hurt to see her this way, even if it meant tears were leaking out of his own eyes.

Letting it out was better than existing in the cold, dead place where she had been. He had reason to know. He'd had experience enough with occlumency not to go as far and get as trapped as she had done, but he had skirted the edges of it. Harry was right – it took the human out of you. Hermione had also been right – it didn't really help in the long run; it made things harder to deal with when they finally broke through. And that's where she was now. And likely would be for a while.

Severus didn't blame Hermione for what had happened. A better handle on occlumency would have helped, but there were other driving factors and she was a novice occlumens, really. That fact added with the depression he had compounded tenfold and the trauma she was already dealing with, it had been almost unavoidable. Severus castigated himself on several fronts: for getting busy and not continuing her occlumency training, for not recognizing her state and forcing her to accept his help sooner, and most of all, for being such a miserable excuse for a human that he'd hurt her and turned her from his side in the first place.

Hermione's sobs were slowing down to snuffles. Severus brushed her hair out of her face and looked down at her. Her reddened, puffy eyes were still open and staring and not yet closed in exhaustion.

"Come, let's get you fed and warmed up so you can get some rest," Severus told her. Hermione got up and made to protest, but he cut her off with a tone that would brook no argument. "Hush, I'll take you to Spinners End today."

She turned her head and glared at him. Her squint of anger was somewhat mitigated by her splotchy face and swollen eyes. ' _Uh oh. Angry kitten_ ,' Severus thought. He was pleased to see it but he wondered what he was about to face.

"You called me Miss Granger, told me I was over-familiar and sent me away like you never wanted me to come back," she accused angrily.

"I know," Severus answered. "I should not have done so...I was already angry when you came, it was a bad day, and you..." he wiped his expression blank and came to a stop.

Hermione quirked an eyebrow. When Severus didn't respond, she looked at him seriously. "Don't do it again."

Severus quirked his own eyebrow and said, "I already told you that I was sorry and that I would never do such again. Are you playing deaf in an effort to get me to repeat myself?"

She gave him a scathing look. "You think your control over your temper has improved that much, do you?"

Severus swallowed, considering, then quipped, "Touché. I would rejoin, 'Hark who talks,' but I think you have recently demonstrated, to ill effect I may add, that your control can be absolute when you wish it. To use your own words: Don't do it again."

Hermione wrapped her arms around herself again and looked frightened. "I...I might need help with that."

Severus answered, "And so might I." "With my temper," he answered her questioning look. "I pledge my help, and you will accept it, and when I err..."

Hermione snorted. "You'll what? Accept my help when in a fit of temper? What does that entail, exactly? Allowing me to whop you upside the head when you yell at me to go away? Hex you maybe?" she challenged.

"I'll endeavor to listen to reason...give you leeway to say what you must," he responded.

"Only when we're alone, I imagine," Hermione said with dark humor.

"Preferably, yes," Severus answered.

"Finish your sentence from earlier," she commanded. "It was a bad day and you...I what?"

Severus sighed and turned his head. "You had been avoiding me."

"I'm sorry about that," she said quietly. "It wasn't what you thought." After a moment, Hermione looked up at him again. "Make that part of your deal," she insisted. "If you're piqued at me, have the guts to say something true instead of lashing out at me in anger."

Severus sighed and nodded. "And you'll reciprocate," he challenged.

"Fine," she answered blithely.

There was something true that she still wasn't telling him - something that didn't originate with pique but something else. Severus sensed it immediately. There had been a flavor of something to do with him when he was in her mind earlier - not pique, not anger...hurt and broken trust, certainly, but something else deeper and hidden.

"I have your journal," he prompted.

Her look turned dark. "Use it if you want to. I don't want to talk about it."

Severus raised his brows at her. "And how is that reciprocating?"

"I wasn't piqued. I'm not the one who lost my temper and sent you away," she defended.

"True. However..." he led.

"Back off, Severus," she growled.

"For now," he conceded, amused at the angry kitten again.

Hermione narrowed her eyes at him again. "If you start digging, I'll consider it an invitation to do the same," she threatened. "I was under the distinct impression that was a no-no where you're concerned. And what, exactly, do you find so amusing? Quit smirking at me. There is nothing remotely funny about this."

This turned his smirk into something closer to a smile. "You are once again the angry kitten. I find it much preferable to all the...moping you were doing. In fact, I find humor in the reversal of our positions. I recall my unpleasant moods improving your own this summer, and finding your irritating smirks ever present when I wished you miles away."

Hermione's hair was fluffing out in her indignation. "Was it this irritating?" When his look denoted, ' _definitely_ ,' she mumbled, "I should've done it more often then. And I wasn't moping, I was...gone." She looked momentarily blank and then distress took over. "And now I'm _everything_! Angry, relieved, anxious, sad, confused, maybe happy, and everything else too...all at once. This sucks!"

"I know," Severus answered. When she looked at him questioningly he said, "I've been close enough to where you were to know what it feels like when it all comes rushing back. It….overwhelms at first, but passes eventually, and new perspective comes."

She looked like she was trying to picture him in such a state and failing. Thankfully his control was better than hers - iron enough to forestall visible evidence until he was alone, absolute enough to ensure there had been very, very few witnesses to his moments of weakness. But he did have them, those moments that proved him embarrassingly, fallibly human, same as her.

"'O brave new world, that has such people in't!'"** Hermione mocked quietly, shaking her head.

Severus wasn't sure if her scoffing Shakespearian reference alluded to the wonder of him finding perspective after emotional upset or her doing so at his admission of emotional vulnerability. He refrained from rolling his eyes but drawled, "You're not going to wax on about the beauties of mankind again? Pity. The opportunity was so ripe."

Hermione did roll her eyes, and scowl…impressively. Finally she wailed in frustration, "Arg! How long does this last!?"

"In your case, I would assume at least a week before it starts to improve," he answered honestly.

"Lovely!" she spat and then turned on him. "And you want to be around that do you? Take me to Spinners End? Are you insane? It'll be like the worst week of PMS _ever_ , times five."

"Oh, I plan on taking you back to Grimmauld Place tomorrow and sharing the...wealth," Severus said.

"If you're taking me there, you're coming with! I'll need someone to yell at, and it's not their fault." Hermione insisted in a tone that told him if he didn't comply she would go elsewhere.

Severus chuckled quietly. "Ah, and there is the irony of role reversal again. You have now become your angry, target-seeking Potions Professor, have you not? Save that your chosen target is perhaps slightly more deserving of the mark. It is now my turn to grin and bear it, I suppose?" Hermione's scowl increased. Severus surmised it best to placate her...a bit. "However tempting the idea, I had no intention of simply dropping you off and leaving Boy Wonder and the Ginger-Haired Menace to deal with the maelstrom and its aftermath. They would likely go tattling to Minerva and she would chew on me more than she has done already."

As it turned out, Harry and Ron suffered 'Hurricane Hermione' more than their deserts. Severus mostly found this amusing, however. Hermione had come back to Spinners End, eaten, showered and slept like the dead. After a breakfast at which Severus was treated to a veritable spectrum of emotional displays from Hermione, he escorted her to Grimmauld Place. The boys, who at first had been pleased and relieved to have Hermione back with them and among the living, quickly found themselves on quicksand. They never knew from one minute to the next if Hermione would be laughing, crying, irate or some combination of all three. Calm was a rarity.

Harry mostly sighed and took it or offered her an arm and a hug. Severus was highly amused each time he caught Harry and Ron cornered somewhere as if trying to hide. Ron was frequently heard muttering, "Bloody hell!" Once he had even sworn and asked Severus, "Whaddya bring her round here for? Next time you piss her off, leave us out of it, would you?" Harry tried to warn him, but Ron brushed it off and said, "What? He finds it all so bloody amusing and then she changes her target and here we are. Or haven't you noticed?"

Too bad the ginger idiot hadn't heeded Harry's warning. Hermione, having heard the exchange, enacted her rage with a hail of yellow birdies. Severus then received of the same for his laughter, but quick use of a shield charm saved him from the scratches that covered Ron.

Unlike the boys, who grew steadily more wary of her, Severus continued plodding steadfastly through the eggshells and even prodded her into anger on purpose at times..

"Are you mental?" Ron railed at him after one of these instances. "You're actually trying to make her angry aren't you?

"No and yes," Severus answered.

While Ron was still trying to work out which response answered which question, Hermione narrowed her eyes at Severus and growled, "Why?"

Severus looked her in the eyes and said, "Because you would rather be angry than cry," which prompted tears until he told her to dry it up and held his arm out to her - which made her laugh...and eventually settle. The boys began giving him looks of awe at his ability to wade into the fray and manipulate her into something like calm.

Hermione too realized his ability to settle her. She began coming to him with silent requests for him to hold her. Once she told him he sometimes felt like only port in the storm. Severus found he did not mind this at all.

* * *

** from Shakespeare's The Tempest: "How beauteous mankind is! O brave new world, with such people in't!"


	16. And We Are Not Angels

CHAPTER 16: And We Are Not Angels

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 ****I don't own these characters or the stories they belong to****

* * *

"And we are not angels, to be comforted by seeing the ends for which everything is sent."

Elizabeth Gaskell, Wives and Daughters

H~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Hermione declined the invite to the Burrow for Christmas. Everyone tried to mask their relief but mostly failed. She couldn't blame them in the slightest. Even she was sick of herself. But Severus, the obstinate, masochistic, infuriating man, insisted that she come back with him to Hogwarts. Minerva had condoned his Christmas break absence on condition that he was there on Christmas Day itself.

None of Hermione's refusals, arguments or pleading stood against him. "If I must go, so must you," he insisted. "You are not staying here alone. I'll stun you and incarcerate you if I have to."

He'd even ignored her honest, panicked tears. "I'm not ready, Severus."

"Suck it up, Hermione. Force yourself to make an appearance at Christmas lunch and hide in your rooms the remainder of the day. It's what I always do."

And, of course, when he mentioned his plan to spend Christmas alone, she couldn't let him do it.

The only concession Severus made was when she demanded that he hide himself with her on Christmas Day instead of condemning them both to a miserable day alone. He'd agreed to share the misery. Hermione snorted at his description but couldn't argue with it.

The SevenS exchanged their gifts on Christmas Eve before they went their separate ways. Hermione gave Severus an emerald green cashmere scarf and soft, black leather gloves. He seemed to appreciate their softness as much as she had done. She also gave him a bookmarking spell that she'd invented.

Severus and George gave her a portable CD player that they had worked together to modify so that it should work at Hogwarts. Hermione was thrilled, especially when she unwrapped the soundtrack CD to the City of Angels movie they had all seen together in the summer.

"Is that from that weird Muggle movie you took us to, Hermione?" Ron asked, sounding somewhat disgusted.

"You didn't like it?" she asked, feigning ignorance.

"It was strange and sappy. Muggle nutters cutting people open, and then she died," Ron complained.

"And there's the real reason. You didn't like it because it made you cry," George said.

Ron mumbled some evasion with red ears and then told to George to shut it when he laughed even more. "Just don't know why she'd like it so much is all. It's like watching a movie that ends with Hermione getting killed by the Knight Bus after saving him from Voldy pants and his bloody snake," Ron said pointing at Severus.

"Except without the sex," George said. "Unless I'm wrong about that," he wagged his eyebrows at them.

Hermione was forestalled from an indignant reply when Harry caught her eye, then flicked his own at Severus and Ron and gave her a wink.

Hermione saw that Ron's ears were practically glowing red now, which was funny enough, but Severus' cheeks also had quite the pink glow, which was unprecedented. Before Severus could recover, Hermione smirked and said, "Yes, Ronald, it's just like that," with dry sarcasm and shook her head.

Ron obviously hadn't thought that comparison through before voicing it in mixed company, but Hermione thought he had more of a point than she let on: damsel in distress...beguiled by a tall, dark, mysterious man in a great flapping coat...or cloak. Except that Severus was not an angel who had thrown himself from heaven just to be with her, nor had they explored the joys of being _together_. Hermione sighed. "You're right about the ending though," she told Ron. "I would have preferred a happy one too."

"But I liked the moved aside from that and I really liked the music…and this will remind me of our trip to the movies this summer. Thank you, Severus," she told the still uncomfortable looking man and gave him a kiss on the cheek. Her smile seemed to ease him a bit. George still looked mischievous when she turned to include him in the thank you for the CD player. She just shook her head at him again.

S~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

After the gift exchange at Grimmauld, Severus flooed with Hermione to his office at Hogwarts.

Minerva greeted them, and when Hermione could not be persuaded to join them in the Great Hall, she insisted Hermione dine with her in her quarters. Severus was thankful for this. After the ordeal of their weeks-long separation, he was very reluctant to leave Hermione alone, or part from her at all. Minerva, however, was one of the few people he knew he could trust Hermione with in her current state. She was also an excellent Deputy Head and had been instrumental in helping him make several key changes this year. Idly, he wondered what her response would be when she opened her Christmas present from him in the morning.

Another person who he had become grateful for this year was Pamona Sprout. There were an increased number of students at Hogwarts this Christmas, especially among his own house, here because they had been displaced by the destruction of their families. At the start of the school year Severus appointed Pamona to act with him as a special resource to precisely these children and he was pleased at how well she was dealing with them.

As she did, he made his rounds through the tables to greet and speak with them and was gratified to note that he was greeted in return with more respect and less hostility and fear than had been the case at the beginning of the year. If he was proud of any of his accomplishments as Headmaster, it was his successes in the care of the lost children – the steps he had taken to ensure that Hogwarts would no longer be the breeding ground for the likes of the Dark Lord or even himself. Whenever things became tiresome or overwhelming, it was this that reassured him.

Severus knew he owed it as much to Pamona and the leadership of the Trio and their friends, and even, at times, Draco, as to his own efforts. There would be many receiving tokens of gratitude from him tomorrow, and as he normally avoided all but the barest basics of the holiday, it would no doubt cause more than a little shock. At least there would be the amusement that afforded to look forward to tomorrow, and for the first time in many years, the company of someone he actually wished to spend the day with, even if she was as good as a crazy loon right now.

He and his crazy loon of a friend spent the evening drinking hot cocoa, listening to Christmas music (her idea, not his), and sitting companionably on the couch, sometimes talking, but mostly in easy silence. Severus had to admit that if his Christmas holidays growing up had been half so enjoyable as this one had been so far, he would not have developed such an antipathy.

Early the next morning, Hermione knocked on the door of his quarters looking a bit befuddled. When she spotted his pile of Christmas presents, which he himself had just noticed on his way from the bed to the door, she pointed to it and said, "Um, is that normal for you, or am I the only one whose pile is larger than normal, courtesy of people I don't know?"

Severus looked over at a couple of the tags. "No, you're not the only one," he said sneering at pile of unknown wrapped objects.

"I'm a little afraid to open them alone," she admitted. "Would you like to swap help? I'll help you with yours if you help with mine?"

The gifts and notes from unknown people could be classed in three categories: thankful and somewhat tolerable, horrible and detestably fawning, or outrageously ludicrous and beyond horrible. Presumably the ill intent and harmful ones had been stopped from coming through by Hogwarts' screening process because they neither detected nor discovered any of that kind. Still, it was bad enough. He was tragic, misunderstood and was supposed to believe himself irresistible and in need of saving by female attention. She was simultaneously lauded as strong and heroic and offered male protection which she was obviously in need of. Also, she was the most beautiful thing they'd ever seen, even though they'd likely never seen more of her than a photograph. And none of the ones in the Daily Prophet had done her justice as far as Severus was concerned.

Hermione had entirely too much fun at his expense as she read the horrible ones out to him. The beyond horrible ones made her blush, come to a sudden halt, and lay the letter or note aside for him to incinerate. But the middling horrible – the more he displayed his disgust, the greater her entertainment.

He found it very satisfying to reciprocate when they got to her pile.

"I should've remembered the day you read that article in class," Hermione mumbled angrily. "Do you _have_ to make it sound so much worse than it already is?"

Hermione was still highly emotional, but Severus detected the severity was beginning to abate. The letter and gift that Drs. Wilkins sent their 'friend,' Hermione set her off for a while, but given the circumstances, it was expected, and her sorrow didn't seem as desperate as it would have been at the beginning of the week. Her laughter was not quite as hysterical, her anger, while still magnificent, was less hair-triggered. It made him glad for her sake, all their sakes really, but it also contributed somewhat to the day being more enjoyable than he'd thought it would be.

Given the dreaded nature of the holiday, never had Severus indulged in useless wishes or thoughts on what an enjoyable Christmas might entail. Even had he done so, he was certain that spending the day in such a manner or in such company would never have crossed his mind. Was there anyone who would prescribe spending the day in the presence of a 19-year junior, over-emotional girl, exchanging the displeasure of one another's atrocious fan-sent-gifts, surviving lunch in the spotlight, tolerating and even engaging (just a little) infantile students (including said 19-year junior one) in a snow battle whilst on an otherwise perfectly nice walk across the grounds, and calling on a half-giant who happened to be a horrible cook but also an extremely generous one, and oh yes, also quite willing to emote? Surely not. And yet, it was the best Christmas Severus could recall in all his years.

After dinner, Severus discovered the good of the day was not yet done. Hermione had one more gift to give him. It was a framed photo of the SevenS the day they'd gone out to eat and to the cinema. Hermione had her arm around him and was leaning toward him as was the rest of the group who surrounded him. Severus had never seen another picture of himself like it. He wasn't scowling or carefully blank – he looked content. He wasn't trying to slink off frame – he looked like he wanted to be there. However much older he was than the others, he didn't look like the oddment of the picture, he looked included, central even, like he actually belonged. It was a startling pictorial display of exactly how much his life and his circumstances had changed since the day Hermione Granger saved his life.

In that moment, Severus felt overwhelmed. He was glad when she began offering an explanation of her gift, giving him time to gather himself.

"I got one for all of us – the frame's spelled, like our manifesto, so that only we can see the 7S worked into it. They're also spelled to act as enchanted 2-way mirrors so that you can keep in touch with us no matter where we wind up next year."

Severus was overwhelmed all over again with this explanation. He sought calm while she showed him the spell to make it work, but still didn't feel in command of himself when she finished. Obeying the overwhelming urge, he wrapped his arms around Hermione and held her tight. After a few moments he finally managed to say, "Thank you," into her hair.

He could hear the smile in her voice as she returned his embrace and said, "You're welcome, Severus."

Deciding the time was right, Severus pulled a package out of his pocket and handed it to Hermione. She unwrapped the silver-chained bracelet with the little charms attached and looked up at him in question.

"The boys helped me pick the charms," he explained. "It's meant to be a thank you and a reminder of who you are and the things you've accomplished and survived."

She looked at it closely, fingering the charms with awe. "The dragon?" she asked.

"Ron's suggestion…that and the cup and the troll," he explained.

She laughed a little and searched the bracelet. "They make a troll charm?"

Severus smirked, "If you ask them to…there were a few special requests."

"Like the hippogriff?" she queried.

He nodded. "Harry's suggestion…that and the glasses and the lightning bolt. He said those were to remember him by, and symbols of the way you help others, the pain you survived and the Horcruxes you battled."

She found the charms as he mentioned them. "And George?"

"The book, the lioness and the otter. He said they were you."

Hermione smiled and nodded. "The snake?"

"Because you survived it and saved me from it."

"The cauldron?" she smiled. "To remind me of you?"

"Obviously," he smirked. "And because you're the only person I know of who has successfully brewed Polyjuice Potion at the age of twelve."

She smiled looked at the last charm. It was the one that perhaps meant the most and was almost too much to explain. "The heart?" she asked quietly.

Severus chose his words carefully. "Because of your big heart, Gryffindor though it might be, full of kindness and determination…..And because of our friendship. You are beloved of us all, Hermione."

She bit her lip and tears filled her eyes as she looked up at him. "Severus, I….thank you. That's the most….just, thank you."

It was then he saw it - a glimpse of that unknown something buried deep in her mind that he'd seen hints of - the truth she'd not told him. It was close to the surface now and he caught the flicker of it in her warm, brown-eyed gaze. She loved him, as a friend, definitely, but deeply beyond that also...as no one had ever done.

He knew it wasn't simple, knew it was layered over by hurt and damage and that besides being technically his student right now, Hermione was a bit brittle and unsettled at the moment. But she wouldn't always be. Severus looked at her in awe, feeling himself to be on a precipice. His insides felt like they had been tossed into the air and were rearranging themselves midair; his heart beat rapidly in his chest, moving in ways he didn't even understand. However unsettled he felt in that moment, Severus was certain of two things: Hermione was a precious to him and he would hold on to her - forever if he could.

"Hermione," he almost whispered as he cupped her cheek and brushed his thumb carefully across it, "Happy Christmas."

Hermione bit her lip and more tears flowed. Apparently overcome, she wrapped her arms around him and held him close. Severus kissed her soft, brown hair and held her close in return.


	17. Be Not Afraid

CHAPTER 17: Be Not Afraid

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 **** I don't own these characters or the stories they belong to****

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"I have never loved any woman before: my life has been too busy, my thoughts too much absorbed with other things. Now I love, and will love. But do not be afraid of too much expression on my part."

Elizabeth Gaskell, North and South

H~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Hermione watched Severus as he worked with Harry and Ron on the hallway flooring and woodwork. She never tired of seeing him dressed down in jeans and a t-shirt, or with his shoulder length black hair tied back and wisps of it escaping and getting in his face as he worked. It made his long nose look a little over-large without its usual frame, but it somehow also make him look more down to earth and human. Not that she didn't like his usual long, dark hair and head to toe black boots, trousers and frock coat, because she did - it was just him, but even knowing Severus well as she did, it gave the impression of formidable formality, which, she supposed was the point. The dressed down version was just a nice visual reminder of their friendship and his ease with them. The only downside was the increased temptation to watch him, to note the movement of his wiry muscles on his thin frame - which inevitably led to Hermione getting caught in the act.

Which she had been just now - by the man himself. Severus' onyx eyes regarded her in question for a moment before they softened and he gave her a small smirk - his smile. And to be fair, that right there, the enigma of that look was at least half the impetus behind her thoughts, and it was her thoughts which compelled her eyes to train upon the subject of her deliberation...mostly.

Thoughts of Severus had swirled in Hermione's mind since Christmas night, and having him near at Grimmauld place gave them food and room to grow. Hermione was beginning to find her way out of the emotional swamp that she had been lost and sinking in, and it was Severus that was her guide and often the very dry ground itself. She didn't know if his ability above the others in this regard had more to do with her preference or to his understanding, but so it was.

Given he was the one who had sent her into the tailspin that had landed her in the wasteland and then the swamp, Hermione realized that it was a stupid move on her part to become dependent on him for her stability, but what was she to do but grab the hand of the only one who seemed able to find her and show her the way? Also, he seemed...something...especially since Christmas night, almost tender and caring at times if she dared believe it, and it made him feel that much more like her safe harbor. Perhaps when she reached solid ground again she would be in shape enough to let go his hand and stand on her own two feet.

Not only was Severus the one who consistently trudged out in the swamp to find her and lead her forth, but he was practically forcing her to continue occlumency training so that if she did fall again, she wouldn't accidently occlude herself to the dead zone. The idea of using occlumency again, even to practice with Severus, terrified her at first, but Severus gave her some cliché about getting back on the broom and gave her no other option. Slowly, the fear was lessening as the shields came to feel more under her control. And while this did make her feel somewhat stronger, it also deepened her gratitude and regard for Severus...which made her want to draw closer to him, not back farther away and onto her own feet...so possibly there was a flaw in the plan.

It was Ginny, whom the boys had brought as a buffer against her female hysterics, that next caught her watching Severus. Hermione was treated to an expression that clearly said, _'Busted! And we are so going to talk about this later._ ' Harry, who must not have mentioned her plight to Ginny, merely gave her a grin when he caught on to the visual exchanges. Hermione decided she had best remove herself to one of the home improvement projects that was out of sight.

Having Ginny there was turning out to be both a good thing and a not so good thing as far as Hermione was concerned. Ginny wasn't against wreaking mischief against the boys and she could commiserate with Hermione when the boys were at their idiotic best, but Ginny also wasn't afraid to snap back at her, call her on her crap or tell her to suck it up. Not that it wasn't needed, because sometimes it was, but sometimes it was not, and only Severus seemed to understand the difference. And once again, her thoughts had circled back to Severus. Hermione sighed and tried to occupy herself, exhaust herself if she could, to shut down her brain.

S~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Severus contemplated his changing regard for Hermione. It was a short step really...from beloved friend to beloved something more. Short but profound. All it required was that he not stand in his own way. He now realized more than half that step had already been taken without his consent, and despite his intent to keep her at a safe distance. All he had to do to complete it was trust her and let it happen. But trust had never come easy.

It was moments like this, when he looked up to find her soft brown eyes gazing at him fondly but as if she were trying to solve a puzzle, that he realized trust was a two way street and she was the bravest of the two of them for trusting him as she did. He had treated her with little but derision for seven years and yet she had saved him; he had tossed her unconscionably away and yet she returned to his arms for comfort. It was a gift so lavish he marveled when he thought about it.

There were times that Severus wondered how he had been so blind as to have missed Hermione's feelings for him: it was in her eyes when she gazed at him, in the desperation of her embrace, and in the trust of her open mind and the flavor of her thoughts. At other times, he almost questioned whether he'd actually seen her love for him or just imagined it: when her look was open yet nothing beyond friendly, when her eyes and tongue broadcast her anger and irritation, or when she became so preoccupied that she barely regarded him at all.

It was the latter which predominated when they returned to Hogwarts. Harry had warned him...once Christmas break was over, Hermione would break out her massive color coordinated study schedule and commence life according to those little blocks of color. Severus had noted during her previous years at Hogwarts that Hermione Granger was likely to be found in the library, accompanied by her miscreants in arms or no. He realized that she spent a great deal of time at study - it's not like he could have missed the fact when she always cited a good ten sources more than necessary and wrote feet beyond the requirement. And yet, he now realized, he'd entirely underestimated the extent of it.

In less than a week, Severus was feeling severely deprived of her company. When he realized that a goodly amount of her fervor was resultant from panic over her required N.E.W.T. level projects, he resolved to solve the issue immediately. It did not go well.

"You are not doing a whole other passel of unnecessary projects when you've already done one that is not only the most brilliant thing that's been produced by a Hogwarts student since Albus Dumbledore himself, but is so massive that it satisfies the requirement of six of your classes. If Muggle Studies educators had half a clue about the science you researched and utilized it would satisfy there also. I forbid it, Hermione."

Hermione looked at him mutinously when he 'forbid' her. They argued back and forth heatedly. He was able to rebut her objections that her work was lost, that it was a gift, that it was incomplete and had neither been tested nor proven effective. The more he chopped away at her excuses, the more agitated she became. It reached a crest when he told her that he'd already submitted it to her professors.

Hermione went pale and still. Severus began to worry when her eyes took on a haunted, tear-filled look, her shaking hand covered her mouth and she squeaked that same desperate sound when she swallowed that she had done that horrible night but few weeks ago.

He went to her unsure what to do. "Hermione, what is it?"

"I can't, Severus...that journal, that project...it brings it all back, that night...I can't," she cried.

Severus closed his eyes for a brief moment, sick once more with the knowledge of what he'd done. He breathed a sigh and cupped her face in his hands. "Hermione, I'll never be able to take back what happened that night, undo what I did, but please don't let it linger over the beauty of what you accomplished and gave. I would undo it, take it back if I could, little one...do it over so you would see and remember the awe in my eyes. Do you see it now? I have rarely seen anything so beautiful. No one but you has ever done anything like that for me, no one has ever given me so much." He wiped the tears from her cheeks with his thumbs then kissed the cheeks he'd just wiped dry. "Remember my gratitude and not my failings, please Hermione?"

She bit her lip and cried, clinging to him as she had done on Christmas night, but more brokenly, the memories she bled in tears this time more painful. But she also nodded her acquiescence. Severus held Hermione tight and bent his face into the soft waves of her light brown hair. He wondered if love was to blame for bringing him such pain with her own. If so, he must acknowledge himself afflicted. For so long he had been alone and aloof. It was Lily that last brought him this level of hurt, but even that had been on his own account and not hers.

Two days later he was abducted. That was perhaps a strong word seeing as how he had allowed himself to be, and only because Hermione had asked it of him.

"Close your eyes, Severus," she called from the fire. He complied, thinking to peek, but she spelled a blindfold over his eyes before he could accomplish it.

"Mippy?" he next heard her call.

"You have corrupted my house elf now?" he asked her sardonically. She ignored him and gave instructions to one of the few elves he'd met with any sense. If Hermione had deprived him of it, Severus would be less than pleased.

"Cooperate, please," she instructed him, apparently having spotted his scowl beneath the blindfold. "I'll be over here with my back turned. Mippy, if you would?"

In the same instant the elf said, "Yes Miss," Severus felt himself de-clothed and re-clothed with a few snaps of Mippy's fingers.

"Hermione!" he bellowed, reaching up to take off the blindfold.

"No, wait!" Hermione called. "It's a Birthday surprise. We're taking you out to celebrate."

"I am not enthused. Nor am I stepping foot anywhere until I have seen what garb you have forced upon me," he replied testily.

"Don't you trust me?" she asked. He could hear the slight tease in her voice. He didn't cave.

"No? Very well then. You have on dark wash jeans and a black button-down shirt, and you look...good." He felt her adjust his collar and place her hand on his chest. "Will that suffice? Will you come with me?"

Feeling himself an idiot, but ruled by the pounding of his heart, Severus gave in to her plea. He signaled his capitulation with nothing more that a put-upon sigh, but Hermione smiled - he could hear it in her voice - thanked him, and kissed him on the cheek. He then suffered himself to be apparated by the elf with Hermione to the point outside the Hogwarts gates, from whence Hermione side-along apparated him to some unknown locale.

"Yes, I do realize how much trust that required on your part," Hermione told him as she reached up and removed his blindfold. Whereupon any retort he'd been formulating fled his brain never to return.

The school uniforms sometimes had the effect of making Hermione appear the young schoolgirl, and though he'd seen her in other modes of dress that made it a bit more obvious that she was no longer a girl, nothing he'd ever seen her in put paid to that so well as the outfit she now wore. Severus felt his mouth go dry. Her jeans were tighter and dressier than what she usually wore - not obscenely so, but perfectly so. Coupled with the heels she wore, they made her legs appear long and slim, and her curves...obvious. The deep green top she wore fit loosely in contrast, but the silky fabric scooped and draped in a way that completely made up for the fact that it wasn't form fitting. Her hair was tamed into smoother, longer waves which made the honey-colored strands within the brown more obvious. Her lips, turned up with her trademark half smirk, were colored with a pale matte pink and her ever-intelligent eyes were brought into prominence by the smoky, dark makeup that surrounded them. She looked grown up and woman - classy but hot, and entirely gorgeous.

It wasn't that she needed all of this to appear beautiful - that wasn't it at all. It was that she could pull this off without it looking the slightest bit like over-effort. With ever increasing frequency, Severus had already noticed the beauty that Hermione had grown into - the arch of her neck, the delicate structure of her face and brows. She was one of those who emerged from the awkward years with a finespun form that her peers had never guessed possible. Hermione little paid heed or even realized the transformation herself, nor realized that if her intelligence were less formidable she would be awash in attention. This Severus had noticed, but seeing her now, he realized he had not, until this moment, fully noticed.

"Is it too much?" she asked after he'd been gawking at her for a few moments. "Ginny played dress-up with me, so I had to pass on the favor."

Severus managed to shake his head no though words were not forthcoming.

It was enough. She smiled and kissed his cheek. Merlin, she even smelled exquisite.

Hermione took him from the apparition point to the posh but hip Muggle restaurant where they met up with the rest of the SevenS and Ginny Weasley, and that was followed up with an equally posh but hip (and thankfully tasteful) club. It had taken until the club before Severus regained aplomb enough to banter normally with Hermione. The others came and went as they danced and mingled.

"I was under the impression the house elves regarded you as a person to be avoided if at all possible. Tell me, when did this change? How did you subvert my elf?" He asked her.

Hermione looked a little chagrined. "I spent a fair bit of time with them the few weeks before Christmas."

Severus nodded. "And?"

She mumbled a nearly unintelligible response which he made her repeat. "I promised never to make another hat or any other garment for the purpose of liberating an elf...and I promised never to speak for them again without first listening to them and getting their permission."

Severus smirked.

"I suspect Kreacher may have had a hand in it," she continued. "Mippy was the first who began to speak with me and the rest started to follow after."

"I am impressed," Severus mocked. "I admit, I had thought the situation irrecoverable."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "You know, Mippy holds you in considerable regard." Hermione looked at him for a moment and continued. "Dumbledore once told us that if you want the true measure of someone you should look at how they treat their subordinates and not their superiors. And I've noticed that you treat house elves very well, almost unusually so, despite your vaunted temper. So tease me all you want - I've got your number and I'm glad of it. It's one of the reasons I think so well of you, you know...even though you give me such a hard time."

She gave him a warm smile and Severus smirked back. "I have every reason to treat the house elves well," he told her. "All these years they have treated me well and without suspicion. They were the only thing like allies and companions I had last year aside from one very meddlesome portrait, and given Dumbledore was such a manipulative bugger, I much preferred their company most of the time. Mippy in particular - he's the most reasonable of the bunch.

Hermione placed her arms about him. "You're a fine man, Severus, and I'm glad to know you. Happy Birthday."

"Because of you, Hermione," he told her. "Thank you."

A smile quickly lit her face, but not before Severus caught the other look that had appeared for the briefest of moments in her eyes. He realized that was part of how she had hidden it from him for so long - with a smile and a laugh. "Don't thank me yet," she teased true to form. "We haven't even gotten to the cake."

He allowed it but he also wondered what would happen if he told her she didn't have to hide it.

"I shall just have to thank you again, then, after the cake. That one stands," he answered, amused but also touched.

It was on the forefront of his mind that night, what he'd only barely begun to admit to himself. 'I love you, Hermione,' ghosted across his mind, in his eyes, beneath his words, and with his hands as he held her close.

The thought of her graduating was now a highly conflicting thing. He had been dreading it as it would signal her absence from his side. While this was still true, Severus also began to realize that certain constraints he'd never had occasion to consider would soon be lifted. Anticipation now added itself to the dread.


	18. Hermione's Cure

CHAPTER 18: Hermione's Cure

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 ****I don't own these characters or the stories they belong to****

* * *

Perhaps your own reiterated cries deafen you to the voice you hoped to hear.

C.S. Lewis, A Grief Observed

H~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"What'd yer name 'em again, Hermione?" Hagrid asked.

"Ricky, Lucy, Fred, Ethel, Doris, Rock, Cary, and Reepacheep," Hermione replied, pointing to the rats in question as she went down the line. She shared a smirk with Harry. It was a nod to the old movies and reruns she and her Mum used to watch together - excepting the fine, brave fellow on the end who lacked a tail. He could almost be the great Narnian rat himself.

Hermione knew Hagrid and Poppy would never get the references.

"And you poisoned them?" Poppy asked giving her an assessing look.

"No, but some of them have volunteered," Hermione replied. "Ricky, Lucy, Doris and Rock are regular rats who ate Muggle rat poison." She pointed to the four dead looking rats. "They'd all but been given up for dead at the veterinarian's office. I've got them under stasis. Fred, Ethel, Cary and Reepacheep are magical rats who volunteered to be bitten by a snake."

Poppy looked at her oddly. Hagrid seemed to take this at face value and nodded fondly at the magical rats who nodded back.

"Muggle science has shown that rat neurochemistry is remarkably similar to human, more so by far than any of the other primates, so this should be a good method of testing and refining the cure. I'm fairly certain that it'll work, but I need to work out the dosage, especially relating to the time reversal component. I need to know their baselines, generally regarding overall health, specifically regarding neurologic health, and I need to know their ages and their weight."

As Poppy and Hagrid conducted their assessments, Hermione thought about everything she had done to prepare for this stage of testing. Harry and Ron had found it humorous that on their last Valentine's Day Hogsmeade weekend ever, she'd had them scouring the countryside for half dead rats, rats brave and stupid enough to die, poisonous snakes and all the lab necessities. Severus had been kind enough to let Ginny come with them so she could spend the day with Harry, and they'd both had the good humor to agree that it beat having to hide out from Harry's many admirers who seemed to become thrice as bold on the loathed holiday.

It had been a welcome distraction from the way Hermione wished she could have spent the day. It was hard enough when she brought back a box of his favorite Honeyduke's mint, dark chocolate toads to share with him, to not to grasp hold of Severus, press into his firm chest and...something...or everything. After seasons of stress and self-neglect, he was more at peace and taking care of himself...and it showed. Hermione was having trouble keeping her hands and her heart to herself. He was still Severus Snape, snarky, mysterious man extraordinaire, but there was a side of wonderful to him that she'd never imagined, and it only kept getting better.

Unfortunately, that whole standing on her own two feet thing was not going to plan at all. It was a constant problem that she contemplated contemporaneously with the problem of working out the practicalities of the cure over the next month. She was like an addict and Severus was like her drug. And as much as that sounded like a romantic thing to say, it wasn't really a healthy thing, and Hermione knew it. Longing, even a desperate kind, was likely a normal affliction of the love she'd grown to have for Severus, but she had come to a renewal of friendship with him from a rather unhealthy place, and the relationship felt parasitic to her, not symbiotic. He didn't regard her as a parasite, Hermione knew, but she sometimes sensed worry from him that let her know she wasn't the only one who had noticed the imbalance.

They had both allowed it to happen. As she attempted to regain herself, she hadn't really re-discovered her own strength, she had discovered his. She'd done the easy thing and drawn from him completely, and he had allowed her to, until now, steady as she seemed, it was a hollow construct. She was dependent on Severus for her well being and the strength of her stance, without much substance or strength to offer in return. The really painful thing was, the more she came to realize the incongruence, the more she sensed his genuine regard for her. Hermione was afraid to try to fix it, and afraid not to. Afraid that misery of some sort would result for both of them, either way.

One thing she could contribute was the cure, and so she threw herself into finishing it, in addition to her considerable studies and other four, smaller N.E.W.T projects.

The rat trials were going well. By the beginning of April, she had the dosage calculations worked out and had done almost everything she could do short giving Severus the cure and watching to see what would happen.

There was only one thing left to do, and only her determination to test the cure on herself with or without Poppy's help garnered the Mediwitch's assistance. Hermione went to the hospital wing on the Friday afternoon before they were to leave for Easter break.

"It's a very small dose. I'll take just enough to de-age me the seven months you assessed I gained with the time turner, just enough to realign my birthday. Even if it doesn't cure my cruciatus damage completely, it should help the residual tremors and the aches. If it goes wrong, I'll only lose a few months of memory." Hermione could see Poppy cracking, so she tossed in her last, true worry. "He's already been through so much, Poppy. I can't give it to him without knowing with absolute certainty what it will do. I can't give it to him if there's a chance that he'll forget the happiness he's gained. I just can't! I have to do this! With or without your help."

Poppy finally capitulated. "Fine, but if you lose seven months worth of N.E.W.T. prep, I don't want to hear it!" She helped Hermione record detailed diagnostics and clinical information and accepted the just-in-case vial of Hermione's recent favorite memories with Severus and her parents.

"Cheers!" Hermione said as she downed the opalescent white potion with nervous excitement. She was immediately suffused with a comforting warmth and the sensation of pins and needles for a few moments. When it was over, she sat up and took stock. The word 'Mudblood' was now only faintly distinguishable on her arm and she no longer had the aches that she'd begun to take as normal. Only time would tell if the tremors that came when she became fatigued would return. In the midst of her excitement, Hermione suddenly realized that there was one aspect of that suffusing warmth that had very decidedly not gone away. She suppressed a moan and tried to concentrate on answering Poppy's myriad questions and sitting still for the diagnostics and reassessment.

"Those aches are completely gone," Hermione said, trying to be circumspect.

Poppy, who had seen the data and actual aftermath of the cure on the rats took in Hermione's squirming, flushed face, and dilated pupils. She gave her an infuriatingly knowing look, and after ascertaining that Hermione's memory was completely intact, dismissed her with a verbal prescription for a cold shower as necessary and an admonition to keep track of the data.

Hermione snorted and took her leave of the smirking Mediwitch just as Severus arrived to drop of some recently brewed potions.

"Hello, Hermione," he said. "Miss Weasley, Boy Wonder and the Ginger-haired Menace await you in your common room. They're taking you on an outing to get you 'out of your bloody lab' tonight, as Ron put it. Admirable sentiment. I insist you go and wish you a pleasant evening."

Her nostrils flared when she smelled his familiar scent and she balled her fists at her side so she wouldn't grab hold of the man in front of her. "Sure. Yes. Thank you….Good…leave the lab…blow off steam," she finished in a mumble.

Severus was giving her a funny look now. Hermione turned to leave, ignoring Severus' confusion and Poppy's poor attempt to hide her amusement.

To her friends' surprise, Hermione, instead of putting up a fuss, was raring to go. She let Ginny dress her up in a black top, leather pants, outer corset ,fingerless gloves and boots, hardly paying attention to what she put on. The fidgets gave her away and she had to dish to Ginny about having successfully taken the cure and the resultant 'excess energy.'

Ginny looked at Hermione's arm and congratulated her enthusiastically. She also smirked as she fixed Hermione's hair into large, loose waves and started on her makeup. "Well, it just turns out our plan to get you out of your lab is just more perfect then," she with a wide smile. "We can celebrate and you can work off your 'excess energy.'

Hermione sighed at Ginny's all too correctly insinuating tone.

When the smirking redhead completed whatever effect she'd had in mind for the two of them, she topped it off with two black cloaks for both of them. Hermione took in Ginny's get up and dark eye liner and could only assume that her own appearance was similar. A look in the mirror confirmed it.

"Ginny, where are we going? We look like Muggles trying to be goth fantasy-land Vampire hunters or something," Hermione said.

Ginny smiled. "Exactly! It's a Muggle club that Lee told George about with pretty much that M.O. Fun, huh?"

"As good a place to blow off steam as any," Hermione was saying as they walked out to the living area. She looked at the boys dressed in a similar manner except with dark button front shirts instead of corsets. They all goggled at each other and laughed.

No sooner than they got to the club, Hermione was out on the dance floor. Her friends came and went between their table and where she pretty much stayed letting loose to the music. Just about the time she was beginning to wind down, a tall, dark figure in a soft, grey cloak over black robes arrowed toward her purposefully, his head angled down and his gaze fixed on her. He only stopped when he had grabbed her right hand in his, their shoulders and thighs were flush and he was looking down at her - almost sideways. The eyes under the hood were an intense and glittering, almost black. His smooth, pale face was framed with wisps of layered, long black hair and set with a familiar, long nose.

Hermione's eyes went wide. "Severus?"

It was him. But he was younger, the lines of care gone, and his intensity was almost lethal. Her breath hitched and her heart tripped from the look in his eyes alone. Merlin, he was beautiful. He radiated the power and beauty of night. These people here were trying to emulate him and they didn't even know it. All he had to do was throw on some black robes and a cloak and he was their king.

And if his look was anything to go by, she was his paramour. He tugged on her hand and she followed him, as did many eyes around the room. Hermione had a million questions, but she stayed them. This man may be mystery incarnate, but she knew him, and he was in no mood to talk. And really, of all the things she wondered, at this moment, her most pressing question required no words to answer.

When they reached the back wall, he loomed over her for a moment, just out of reach. Hermione could not withstand the temptation. Neither could he, apparently. As soon as she leaned toward him, he put an arm around her and drew her swiftly against his solid frame. Hermione's heart ran riot in her chest which lifted and relaxed in its own quick rhythm, and fire licked pleasantly through her veins. His depthless eyes grew somehow darker as he looked down at her mouth, and then, finally, he leaned down and brushed his lips across hers. The answer was Severus tasted and felt divine. Her imagination had been wasted effort on that front. His lips were softer and his kisses more teasing, masterful, passionate, sensuous, incendiary….there weren't enough words. And it didn't even matter, because her mind was a glorious jumble.

Unhappily, they were interrupted far too soon by Harry who had spotted familiar faces in the crowd, approaching with George. "Sorry guys. Worst timing ever, I imagine, but unless you're ready to stand and make a public announcement, you'd better keep your hood up and scarper Severus," he said.

Severus devoured her a few more moments with his eyes, then, without ever facing the crowd, released her and made his way down the nearby hallway to a back exit.

Hermione heard Harry chuckle after a moment. "Ginny told me about the side effect of the cure. Did you put it in there on purpose? Didn't think you were that desperate yet." he teased with a bright smile.

She gave him a withering look. "Oh, shut up, Harry. Of course, I didn't. Just a left over effect of all the extra circulation and nerve stimulation from the cure I think." She snorted, "I'd thought the rats were just sort of pepped up after….I didn't realize..." Hermione shook her head and looked confused. "I've got about a million questions, but I don't suppose now's a good time to go badgering him about them."

"No, I imagine not," said Harry with a smirk.

They made their own swift departure from the scene of...well...what Hermione was trying to cool off from, and she led them on a brisk walk around town until the others finally convinced her to return to the castle. One look at Hermione and her I-mean-business look and stride had Muggles dodging quickly out of her way before they even registered her three cloaked companions. Hermione finally noticed Ron and Harry sniggering at this. When they started talking about what had happened at the club, Hermione checked Ron's expression closely. To her relief, he looked a little sad but mostly amused about what had happened.

"That wasn't much better than watching Ginny snog someone. Much weirder though…it was Snape!" he said.

Hermione smiled and rolled her eyes. "Did you guys get a good look at him?" she asked, looking at Ginny with a look that said, 'Oh my word, was that man hot!'

It turned out they hadn't really seen him, and they didn't do until he turned up at Grimmauld Place the next day.

"How are you gonna be Headmaster looking like that?" Ron blurted.

"You realize I was only a year older than you when I started teaching potions and took on Head of Slytherin House?" Severus drawled, his rich voice back to its former glory. "I shall manage the same way I did then: intimidate, with extreme prejudice, anyone who mistakes my appearance of youth for either tolerance for foolishness or lack of ability."

Harry and Ron snorted.

"How many years loss did Poppy diagnose?" Hermione asked.

"Seven," Severus answered. The heat in his eyes was banked, but it was still there as he looked at her. She could tell that he wanted to talk to her, but that he would bide his time.

Hermione swallowed and nodded. It was what she expected.

"But you didn't look like this our first year! You look at least fifteen years younger!" Harry exclaimed.

"And let that be a lesson to you who want to be Aurors and She who perpetually takes on too much: chronic stress, lack of sleep, torture, not eating regularly…these things age you quickly and beyond your years," Severus said. "I was…am only thirty nine, you know."

They got him to visit the Burrow with them that day. George had his fun and innuendos at their expense.. He only thought it was funnier that his parents assumed he was ribbing Harry and Ginny. Severus got in a good head-whop before they left.

Hermione didn't get a chance to talk to Severus alone until the two of them went back to Hogwarts that night.

"Hermione," he began and then paused to choose words.

As with the rest of the day, Hermione drank in the sight of him, assessing the changes and similarities. "Don't say you're sorry. Please, Severus?" she begged, putting a finger on his lips.

He thought for a bit and brushed her hair out of her face. "I would. It shouldn't have happened yet, little one. But at the same time I cannot regret it."

Hermione's insides soared at his words. He allowed her embrace and wrapped his arms 'round her in return. "Did Poppy warn you?" she asked.

Severus snorted. "Obliquely. I…underestimated what she tried to convey."

Hermione chuckled. "What happened?" she asked.

"After prising out of her what had inspired your odd behavior, I...assured her cooperation and took the cure with the intent to surprise you. I was suffused completely with warmth for a time, then rather sharp shooting pains for a few moments, and then I felt back to normal, except better than, and...Insufferable woman wouldn't let me set off to thank you until she had recorded every last sodding detail, including...that."

"Yes, that," Hermione smiled. "You definitely succeeded in surprising me. Ten points to the Headmaster!" she teased.

Severus smiled at her and placed a careful kiss on her forehead. His eyes again conveyed a warmth that far surpassed his careful restraint. Those eyes and his suddenly younger appearance had Hermione much more flustered than her usual around him.

It would be so easy, she thought, to just go forward, to let the cure be enough as far as Hermione-contributions went, to depend on him for the purpose and drive she currently lacked and hope all else would fix itself in time. But it would be so unfair to him.

She and Severus stayed the current course and maintained status quo between them, but as to the outside world, things changed. They had their bit of fun with it though. Severus managed to keep his transformation under wraps until the Monday evening after break. The teachers, healers, professional guild members and even Kingsley, some Department heads and his secretary responded to the invitation for the presentation of what they'd simply been calling "Hermione's cure."

Hermione was grilled methodically and defended her process admirably.

"You surveyed ancient texts, translated the runes and did the arithmantic calculations in order to re-create time-turning sand, which you then linked with a potion?" one Ministry member asked, sounding flabbergasted. It was easy to see why. The art of time sand had been thought lost. No new time turners had been created for hundreds of years. And no one had ever heard of it being linked with a potion.

Hermione answered these and many other questions, laying out her survey of ancient texts, her use of charms and transfiguration on the sand and charms in the potion making process, her use of Muggle chemistry, medicine and science (which went right over their heads), her use of almost unfathomably complicated arithmancy calculations in the creation of a potion with elements of healing, time turning, de-aging, and neural-regeneration, combined carefully so that some de-aging accompanied the healing in proportion to the damage, but no memory loss occurred.

One obnoxious Ministry official, unable to find any holes in her work and doing a poor job of hiding his prejudice against the Muggle components of the cure, finally asked snidely, "Yes, but does it work?"

Hermione told them about her own use of the potion, and as they were listening, Severus glided into the room. Some of the teachers had seen him already, but the Potions guild and Ministry members had not.

"Severus, is that you?" Kingsley asked in a shocked voice.

"Whole and hale, my friend," Severus answered. "Neurological pain and damage from innumerable cruciatus curses, hexes and cursed snakes reversed, with physical healing of all related scars, erasure of several years worth of premature aging and seven years de-aged with memory fully intact."

The healers were amazed and wanted vials of it immediately. The potions guild pretty much patented it on the spot. The Ministry officials deemed it necessary to classify it as a controlled substance and squabbled. Kingsley hugged her and said, "They're all going to be fighting over themselves to woo you to their departments now."

Hermione loved Severus' praise best. That evening in the lab he told her, "You're brilliant, little one. I'm very proud of you. You'll be set for life with this, you know."

"That's not why I did it," she told him. "I did it for you."

Severus cupped her face in his hands and gazed at her with almost the same intensity as he had done the night of his cure. "Hermione...Thank you," he said. This time his kiss was chaste and gentle, but still overwhelming.

Hermione was glad when, over the next month, the cure healed several other people of cruciatus damage inflicted in the last war, but the only thing that came close to the satisfaction she felt anytime she saw the way Severus now ate and moved without pain was when Neville's parents were healed and restored with the cure. They were de-aged almost to their son's age, but their minds were returned and Neville was beginning know his parents for the first time in his life. The day it was given to them, Neville grabbed Hermione into a hug and just sobbed for a while as he tried to voice his appreciation. Hermione couldn't have been happier for him.


	19. Latching On

CHAPTER 19: Latching On

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 **** I don't own these characters or the stories they belong to****

* * *

"The world is larger and more beautiful than my little struggle."

Ravi Zacharias

S~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

In the days that followed Christmas break, Severus watched, almost anxiously, over Hermione. There was something growing quietly and deeply between them, mutually recognized, but whose time, given their circumstances, had not yet come. It was like a tender new plant of the most rare and valuable kind...just as precious and vulnerable, capable of withering from lack of care or growing into something beautiful and vital. But there was something off as well.

Severus' life prior to this year ensured that his existence had been a stressful, angry and lonely one, but he'd survived the cards life dealt and he'd had the strength to choose and walk his own path. He was not the tragic, heroic, broken, love-starved man the damnable Daily Prophet made him out to be - thus ensuring him unwanted solicitation from a plethora of idiotic witches who wanted to bathe him in pity. It was true, however, that his past had groomed him to cling tightly to the few trusted, good things that came into his life, and this he did with Hermione. Perhaps a little too much.

The tell the whole truth, Hermione had helped him and mended more than he'd known was broken. Even before her miraculous cure. This fact made his regret profound when he'd hurt her, made it possible to risk trusting her, and had made it easier to give and reciprocate when it came time to help her. He'd been surprised by the depth that her pain had become his own. In short, she'd completely and irrevocably wormed her way under his skin and into his heart.

Severus could admit that it was gratifying to be needed so much by someone he cared for. It ameliorated the fear, made him feel a little more secure, a little less out on a limb. But enabling Hermione's dependence came at a price. Outwardly, she looked much the same, but to the observant, the evidence was there. It was in the lack of interest sparking in her eyes as she read and learned. It was in the absence of her usual goal-oriented drive. It was in her dearth of opinion and the uncertainty with which she went forward. Those were very un-Hermione things.

Severus sensed over and over that she cared for him, that she loved him. He wished he could find and return whatever part of Hermione had been left behind as she recovered from her mishap with occlumency, but he was at a loss as to how to do it.

It had been encouraging when she'd thrown herself into completing the cure with something close to her old absorption. But it became apparent, after a while, that her interest in completing it was related to her desire to please him and not a return of the fervor that usually drove her through life. And if she could accomplish something like that, approaching mastery level on many counts, when neither potions nor healing were particular passions of hers, and the academic merit hardly figured into her motivation, imagine what she could do when she was in full form. It awed even him.

When Severus heard from Poppy that Hermione had finished the cure and tested it on herself, he had first worried - until hearing Poppy's report and remembering that he'd seen post-cure Hermione only moments before. Severus then immediately talked Poppy into dosing him, After it was done he headed off to find Hermione, understanding immediately why she'd been acting so oddly before fleeing the infirmary.

He'd only meant to surprise Hermione and tell her thank you. But the cure had left him on fire, undermining his control. When he'd found her at the club, Severus' intent to thank her fell to the wayside and the need to have her in his arms and kiss her senseless had come over him - and the audience hadn't even registered. Severus still couldn't believe that he'd acted so rashly, but Hermione's response...it still had him wit wandering when he thought about it.

Severus found himself thinking about her in the midst of everything else he was supposed to be doing and frequently fought back the impulse to grab her close and repeat the night at the club whenever he saw her. His increased youth and energy did nothing to help him in this regard. As much as Severus wished he could take advantage of the time Hermione was so close to hand to just be with her, and most people who knew them and whose opinions mattered at all knew them to be good friends, they both knew it was wisest to wait until she was no longer his student. He wasn't planning on making a public spectacle out of them, Merlin forbid, but Severus had no intention of hiding like a criminal either. He'd had enough subterfuge for a lifetime or two. Why invite more unsavory speculation than was bound to arise in any case?

This is what he told himself. It very nearly wasn't enough, and likely wouldn't have been if it weren't also for the fact that Hermione wasn't fully Hermione at the moment. In his frequent musings, he sought something that might help her.

The only bright idea had arisen between Shacklebolt and himself at a dinner they'd shared as they discussed the matter. Friends though they were, Severus doubted that the Trio realized the extent to which Kingsley watched over them, anxious both for their well-being and for the promise of their futures. Severus, who had always found Kingsley to be one of the most tolerable and sensible Order members, increasingly found a sense of camaraderie with the man over their mutual concerns.

The bright idea to tailor a position in the Ministry for Hermione, Severus was afraid, might well be turning into the worst idea, however. The one thing he and Kingsley could discern that still lit her fires, so to speak, other than himself, was her desire to learn more about other cultures, their social strata regarding bloodlines, their magical creatures and how they integrated so that she could learn best how to help on the home front. Severus couldn't blame Hermione for desiring to see more of life than the pages of a book, or to witness worlds that were not as broken and ravaged as their own, but when consequent discussions between she and Kinglsey began to formulate a liaison-ambassador position that would potentially keep her traveling for two years, Severus felt hints of panic and bereavement stirring within his soul.

And then there was the outright odious idea, a plan fully in the works tailor made to ensure his misery. His presence was requested at the Ministry at four of the clock on Saturday afternoon, the eighth of May, for receipt of a special award, the Order of Merlin - First Class, the grand opening of the Wizarding War Memorial wing at the Ministry, and the First Annual Remembrance Ball.

His protestations met deaf ears. Kingsley let Severus know that his invitation read "Your presence is requested" as a nicety only.

"Think more along the lines of 'Your presence is...necessary, insisted upon, demanded, not an option or up for discussion'. All of these are fitting, though less subtle," Kingsley told him. "I am quite serious, my friend. I'm not above resorting to unsavory methods to ensure your attendance either."

He proved this when he brought up Hermione's willingness to do her duty and show up for her award. "You mean you wouldn't like to go with her? Enjoy mutual protection of a sort in each other's company? You would rather leave her at the mercy of her overeager admirers?"

The insufferable man knew exactly which wand to yank. This left Severus no option but to offer himself to Hermione as an escort. He might trust her in the care of the boys, but they had apparently made other plans and he would not countenance the thought of Hermione on anyone else's arm, or on her own, unprotected.

When he asked Hermione to accompany him, her eyes lit up and then turned sympathetic. "You know, I do believe Kingsley had a hand in putting Gabrielle in Ron's path...the random trip to see Fleur during term, coincidental foray to the joke shop when Ron just happened to be there...very school girl of him don't you think? Positively meddlesome."

Severus grunted. "Quite. One could almost suspect..."

They both turned to look at the newest portrait on the Headmaster's wall. The portrait in question avoided their gaze with an entirely too innocent look on his face.

"Albus Dumbledore," they said together. Severus saw Albus grin and wink at Hermione from the corner of his eye as he turned to face her again.

"I would love nothing more than to be by your side the entire night, Severus, and watch you receive well-deserved recognition," Hermione told him. "But I also know how much you loathe the idea and I won't be party to anything that forces you to do something against your will. Don't feel like you have to go with me just because Ron has, for once, what he alone among us sees as a fortune: the spotlight and a sycophant."

Severus looked down at her and realized he would rather be at her side than anywhere else, even if it did come at such a cost. "Don't be ridiculous, Hermione." He cupped her chin and tilted her eyes up to meet his. "You have no idea how much I appreciate you for not trying to manipulate me, but you go too far. Your company is not a burden to me. You know that, surely?"

Hermione gave him a smile that was a bit watery. "Yes, but is it welcome enough to overcome your aversion of 'the epitome of all that is loathsome,' as you put it?" she asked teasingly.

"It is welcome enough to overcome even that, yes," he replied with dry amusement. "The only caveat will be the requirement of your constant presence. If you leave me to my own devices it shall not go well."

The night, as it turned out, went quite well. Not to say that the backdrop of events, congratulations, publicity, and memories weren't odious, but the presence of Hermione at his side and in his arms made up for it.

Hermione had stolen his breath, not just at the first sight of her, but throughout the night. She wore an elegant silk gown somewhere between maroon and deep red. She'd clung to him, but while doing so, held her head high and somehow projected an aura of both formidable intelligence and resolve, and inner warmth and kindness. She maintained a reserve that only relented with her close friends, and she gifted only Neville, Luna, Kingsley, the SevenS and especially him with her open and beautiful smile. Hermione told him she was the envy of the witches in the room as she danced with him, but he snorted, knowing that despite the detestably fawning witches who'd approached him, it was Hermione who incited envy. His scowl was simply more effective at keeping her would-be suiters at bay.

The SevenS shared a table with their dates. The Hogwarts staff and their friends from the Order and the DA sat nearby with their families. In one another's company they actually managed to enjoy the evening. And they shored each other up through the awards and speeches, and as they made their tour through the War Memorial wing.

Colin Creevy had managed to take an astonishing number of pictures of the last battle before his demise. There were also memory photos that had been obtained of Harry Potter and his comrades breaking out of Gringott's and the Ministry. Those who had been there were forced on a solemn trip down memory lane at the viewing of these and the other depictions and framed verbal accounts. Severus, Dumbledore. the Trio and Neville all had special sections dedicated to them. There were artifacts: Death Eater robes and a mask (Severus' own), Bellatrix and Riddle's wands, and the infamous tent had been recovered. There were also replicas: Hermione's beaded bag among them.

After the viewing, they found a deserted room in which to recover themselves. Severus held Hermione close as she curled into his chest and sniffled. She then heaved a sigh and performed a few spells to set herself to rights again.

"Am I presentable?" she asked him.

Severus brushed his thumb against her cheek and cupped her face in his hand. "More than simply presentable, little one. You live up to your name and your heritage."

"Severus, what are you talking about?" Hermione asked him with amused curiosity.

"Hermione...unique and beautiful name, and fitting for the daughter of the woman whose beauty launched a thousand ships," he replied with a small smile.

"My mother is Helen Jean Granger, not Helen of Troy, oh Smooth-tongued-one. Who knew you were capable of such flattery?" she teased with apparent fondness. "But seriously, is my face blotchy and streaked with makeup?"

"Hmm," Severus deliberated, keeping her wondering, but he hadn't been teasing at all. She was beautiful and he finally gave in, for just a moment, to the impulse that had consumed him all night. Slowly he lowered his face and brushed his lips against hers in a gentle kiss. He looked into her warm brown eyes. "There. Perfect," he said. "You were just a bit pale, but that brought the color back," he smirked.

The longing in her eyes almost did him in, but finally she smirked back and quipped an amused, "Thank you."

The Sevens began to reassemble from various corners around the room in preparation to return to the spotlight. Hermione spotted a done-in George holding hands with Angelina Johnson who looked on in worry. Hermione walked up to George and put her hand on his cheek.

"How are you doing, love?" she asked him quietly.

George just shook his head.

"I know," she said, giving him a hug. "I think we're all done," she said looking around the room and receiving nods. "Why don't we call it a night? Harry and I can stay and bid our goodbyes and you lot can floo home from the Atrium. We'll meet you at the Burrow as soon as we can." She looked meaningfully at Severus who understood and agreed with a return glance and nod to take charge of George and getting them all back. They began walking back down the corridor.

"Did you like my bug spray?" Hermione asked George as they walked down the corridor together. His eyes perked a bit with the light of amusement and mischief.

"Are you finally going to explain the stuff you sprayed us all with before we came, then?" Ron asked. Severus had an inkling, but he was waiting for the explanation as well.

"Just a little something I came up with...an odorless midge repellant," she said with clear amusement.

"Midge repellant?" Ron asked with a flat voice as if still waiting for the punch line.

"Yes," Hermione replied. "Has an effective radius of twenty feet and just happens to repel beetles as well."

Harry was chuckling. Ron laughed to and said, "You didn't?"

"Hmm..." Hermione deliberated then laughed. "Got the idea when George told me about the prank he and Fred played on Minerva with catnip."

Severus laughed heartily as he remembered that particular prank and processed the implications of what Hermione had done. Hermione smiled at him while Ginny and Angelina raised their eyebrows in shock at seeing the formidable Severus Snape succumb to laughter.

"Is that why... _she_ started coughing and gagging every time she tried to come near with her stupid quill? Thought she was going to puke on Harry at one point." Ron asked quietly, looking around for sign of any unwanted listeners. The striking blonde French girl who clung to his arm looked in confusion around the corridor as well.

Hermione merely raised her eyebrows and smiled in answer.

While Harry and George were promising to explain things to Ginny, Angelina and Gabrielle later, Ron said, "Bless you, Hermione! Bloody brilliant, as always."

He hugged her and kissed her on the cheek and thanked her as did Harry, Severus and George. Severus heard George thank Hermione for ending the night with a memory of Fred he wanted to remember. Severus concurred with that.

When they arrived at the Burrow, Mr. and Mrs. Weasley were not far behind, and Molly appeared to have fared no better than George with the evening's events.

"Go take care of Molly, Arthur. Harry and Hermione are bidding our goodbyes at the Ministry. I'll watch over things here and make sure the dates get home before we head back to Harry's," Severus told the man quietly.

Arthur nodded his thanks and clapped him on the back as he passed. "Bill and Fleur left for home just ahead of us so Gabrielle can floo back to Shell Cottage. You're all welcome to stay here...but I know it helps George to stay elsewhere when it's bad. Thank you, Severus."

Severus watched them head up the stairs and settled in, or tried to as he waited impatiently for Hermione.

It had been unbearably hard to leave her there at the Ministry, even with Harry, even for a short time. If that was a sample of how it would feel to let her voyage off into the world without him, Severus did not want to contemplate the next couple of years.


	20. Letting Go

CHAPTER 20: Letting Go

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 ***I don't own these characters or the stories they belong to****

* * *

"He is no fool who gives what he cannot keep to gain that which he cannot lose."

Jim Elliot

H~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Hermione spent what time she could with Severus, but the graduation ceremony came soon enough. Before she knew it, she was sitting up on the stage and Minerva was introducing her as the top student of her year and the next speaker. As she listened for her cue amongst the list of accolades, Hermione spotted something that derailed her attention. Her parents! were sitting in the crowd. How was that even possible? Muggles never came to Hogwarts!

Minerva might as well have been speaking gobbledygook in the background for all Hermione heard after that. So astonished was she that her cue to get up and speak passed by unnoticed until someone jostled her. It was a good thing her speech was memorized so much so as to be delivered by rote. Hermione couldn't account for her parents being there at all, and all she wanted to do was run to them. She did do the moment the ceremony was over.

"Mum!" she cried, throwing herself into Helen's arms. "I mean..." Hermione faltered.

"Yes, poppet, we remember...mostly," her Dad said. "We're so proud of you."

Hermione threw herself, sobbing into her Dad's arms next. "What? How?" she asked, totally at a loss. "You never said anything in your letters."

"Funny thing. Started remembering things after you came and we went to the MLO address you left us for answers. Turns out MLO stands for Muggle Liaison Office of the Australian Ministry of Magic and it all made more sense than it should have. They put us in touch with your Minister who put us in touch with your Headmaster, who as it turns out, was none other than the gentleman who had visited our home with you last summer, except younger looking. Kept it all a surprise, and here we are," he finished.

Hermione looked up at her Mum apprehensively. "So you know what I did?"

Helen gave her a sad smile. "They told us what happened and why. Mr. Snape said you might be able to help us clear up our memories. They're still a bit fuzzy."

"You're not angry with me?" Hermione asked with pleading, anxious eyes.

Her parents looked at each other and then her Mum answered, "We are still trying to come to terms with what you did and all that you didn't tell us about your years here, and we hope that it will never happen again, but..." Hermione held her breath at her mother's pause. "If what they've told us is true, it was amongst the many ways you acted with great bravery and resolve. It's our fault, perhaps, that you became so involved. We raised you to not just say what you think but to do what you believe, did we not? All the fine ideals in the world don't mean a thing if you don't stand up for them. So few people do...but you did, Sweetheart, and we're very proud of you."

Her Dad put his arms around both of them. "Just don't do anything like that again without telling us."

"I promise, Daddy," Hermione said, weeping with blissful relief.

"We missed you, Darling, so much, even though we didn't know it was you we were missing."

Hermione felt her Dad move away. She looked up and saw him shaking hands with Severus.

Hermione stepped out of her mother's arms and went to Severus. After looking up into his eyes for a moment, she wrapped her arms around him, completely overwhelmed and lost for words. She felt him stiffen for a moment, whether because they were in public or because Hermione's parents stood close by, Hermione wasn't sure, but after a moment, she felt him relax and return her embrace.

"Severus, thank you. I don't even know what else to say, but thank you," she told him.

In the two weeks before she left for her assignment, Hermione spent time with her parents, shared more memories with them, and involved Severus whenever she could. They persuaded him to come back to Grimmauld with them. Helen Jean Granger was a perceptive woman and spotted, immediately, the chance to get to know better, someone who obviously meant a great deal to her daughter. She threw her voice into the request her daughter made.

A few days later, her Mum pulled her aside and asked, "You love him, don't you, Hermione?"

"If you mean Severus, then yes," Hermione answered quietly and with a weight of sadness.

A long discussion followed on how that had come about and why Hermione was leaving when the thought obviously tore her up.

"You don't mind that he's older?" Hermione asked when her Mum appeared perfectly accepting.

"Hermione, you've always been more intelligent and mature than your peers. I'm not at all surprised that you would fall in love with an older, obviously intelligent man. Also, mathematically speaking, from what you tell us of your expected life spans and the quickening of the age at which you reach majority, it's not so wide a gap. You're still relatively nineteen, be your lifespan 100 or 160, but the difference renders his age something more like 25 by comparison, does it not? Maybe even closer to 20 by comparison, physically speaking, since the cure you gave him?"

Hermione did the math in her head and nodded. "I'd love him anyway, regardless. I can't _believe_ I'm about to just take off and travel for work for two years, no matter how interesting it sounds," Hermione wailed.

"For what it's worth, I agree with your reasons for doing so," her Mum said. "We can perhaps see it better than you can; the changes in you are sudden to us. You've always been so independent, from the time you were very little. I've never seen you second guess yourself so much, so unsure of your opinions, or so dependent on cues from someone else to let you know if you're right or okay or not. You're not imagining it, Sweetheart."

Hermione dropped her head and sagged into her Mum when she wrapped her arms around her. "I can tell he loves you very much in return, oh so proper though he is," Helen chuckled. "I know this will be hard for both of you, but I'm proud of you for doing what you must for things to be healthier between you in the long run."

"I just kept remembering what you said when I was old enough for the talk and we discussed relationships," Hermione told her. "Amongst all your warnings never to stay with someone who belittled me or tried to use words or physical force to control me, you gave sage advice that no one could make me happy if I wasn't happy with myself first." Hermione sighed, "I think I would grow to be a burden to him like this."

Her Mum patted her back and nodded. "Then go, do things you're interested in. Find your purpose and your passion in life again, knowing that it's best for both of you to do so...but enjoy your time with him until you go," she finished in a conspiratorial whisper.

Hermione pulled back and looked at her Mum to see if the same permission was written on her face that she heard in her voice.

It was.

"Thanks, Mum," Hermione said. "I love you."

Hermione heeded her mother's wise advise, and spent as much time with Severus as she could. But the closer the date of her departure, the more anxious she became. A few days before she was due to leave, Hermione found herself fingering her charm bracelet as she waited outside the Minister for Magic's office. In short order, an assistant held the door open for Hermione to enter, and Kingsley and a familiar ginger-haired person stood and greeted her with hugs.

"Hello," she said, struggling to observe the niceties. "What are you doing here, George?"

"Discussing some of the security product line," he answered. "What brings you?"

Hermione stood with her arms hugged around her middle and tears gathering in her eyes. Kingsley gave her a knowing and sympathetic look.

"You said it was for the best," he reminded her. "And I agreed, not just for you, but for what I, the Ministry needs as well. You're not backing out are you?" the Minister asked kindly.

Hermione shook her head 'no', but said, "But how am I going to do it, Kingsley? Leave him behind? You know..."

"Yes, I know," he said in his deep, reassuring voice. George looked like he'd cottoned on to Hermione's dilemma.

"Please," she begged. "Please promise me that you'll check up on him and see him as often as you can, that you won't let him be alone. He doesn't trust many people...but you two...and send Harry and Ron no matter how busy Auror training gets...I don't want him to feel abandoned...again." The very thought increased her distress to a level that rendered her unable to speak further.

Kingsley enveloped Hermione in a side hug. "I would do so in any case, but yes, Hermione, we'll watch over Severus for you. I'm more worried about palliating his concerns for you. Going by previous discussions, no matter what escorts and security we arrange, it's likely nothing will satisfy him."

Hermione forged on, somewhat assuaged and ignoring that latter issue altogether. "He can be quite stubborn. If he tries to close himself off, you may have to be stubborn as well," she said..

"We can do that," George said with a smile. "And we can be impressively inventive if necessary also, you know," he added with an air of mischief.

Hermione gave a watery smile. "Thank you."

When she came back to Grimmauld, she spotted her Dad in the entry-way studying the irate but rendered-silent-by-a-specially-invented-silence-shield-charm portrait of Wallburga Black.

"Get everything squared away?" he asked as she closed the door behind her.

Hermione shrugged and nodded at the same time. "I suppose," she said sadly.

"Thatta girl," he said as he enveloped her in a hug. "It'll all work out," he reassured.

Severus approached them then and asked to speak with Hermione. Her Dad gave a kind smile before giving her a parting hug and wink.

Severus nodded at Dr. Granger as he passed. He then turned a questioning and somewhat worried gaze on her.

"You went out?" he asked

"I had a few things to square with Kingsley," Hermione said, instigating an embrace. "How about you? You wanted to speak with me?"

He looked at her quietly for a moment and then asked if she would spend the afternoon and go to dinner with him after her going-away lunch at the Burrow tomorrow. Hermione accepted with a smile, feeling happy, sad, excited, and nervous all at once.

Lunch at the Burrow was wonderful and nostalgic, and Hermione knew she would miss everyone, not just Severus. After making the best of the afternoon, she and Severus dressed in nice but casual attire for their time together. She wore a nice summer dress and Severus wore nice jeans and button down shirt. She smiled at the sight of her friend and love with his familiar long, black hair, impressive nose and dark eyes. It could almost be one of their usual outings as friends, except that her heart was hammering and no one was really fooled by the friend-seeming appearance. Everyone bid them goodbye and agreed to see them tomorrow for Hermione's send off.

Severus took her hand and apparated them to Muggle London, where they'd spent much time before, and where they could move about without being recognized or swamped by reporters. It was almost like one of their past friendly outings. They enjoyed a casual dinner and stroll, and their conversation was much as it ever was, if tinged with something other - hopeful and sad. Severus then apparated them to her special spot and they sat on the tree platform cushions listening to the outdoor music concert. This time, Hermione sat between his legs and leaned her back against his chest, reveling in the feel of him: his warmth, his solid chest, the feel of his heartbeat, the rhythmic movement of his breathing, the rumble of his voice, and the soft curtain of his hair brushing against her as he leaned forward to talk quietly to her from time to time. Hermione held his hands and absorbed the feel of him more than she absorbed the notes that made their way to them. He traced his fingers gently across the remaining strokes of her faint scar and she trembled.

After the concert, they returned to Grimmauld Place. Hermione could tell that Severus was shaken by thoughts of her departure as much as she was. Just as she thought he was about to bid her goodnight and head to his room, Severus grabbed her close and held her tight. When he loosened his hold, Hermione lifted her head and looked up into his eyes. She spotted an unexpected sheen of tears in his eyes.

"Hermione," he said, his voice gruff sounding. He eyes burned into hers with a hint of desperation. "I love you."

Hermione's heart soared at hearing those wonderful words. She leaned her face into the palm of his hand and smiled at him. "I know, Severus. And you know that I love you, don't you?" she questioned with a pleading tone.

Severus closed his eyes and nodded his head. "But you're leaving me," he said. The pain, dejection and disbelief in the words nearly broke her heart.

Hermione shook her head slightly and kept her tear-laden eyes on his. "No, Severus. I'm not leaving you, I would never just leave you. I'm going and I'm coming back again. I love you too much to subject you this right now," she waved her hands up and down in front of her chest, indicating herself.

Severus gave her an angry look.

"No, I'm serious," Hermione said. "My Mum taught me long ago that no one else can make you happy unless you're happy with yourself first - that people can't fix each other, they just help each other along. I don't want to be a burden to you." Severus shook his head, but Hermione continued, "I know you think you don't mind, but you shouldn't have to carry me like that. Walk on eggshells afraid you might hurt my feelings, avoid the truth, afraid I might not take it well, worry over my state of mind when I should be able to stand on my own two feet and help you carry your burdens as well. I won't do that to you, Severus. I need to get my strength back, relearn my purpose and wonder in life. Please tell me you understand," she begged.

Severus sighed and dropped his forehead to rest on hers. "I do, but damnit, Hermione, I don't want you to go," he growled softly.

"I know. Me too" she said with a sigh. After a moment, she voiced her fear. "I'm scared, Severus."

Severus looked down at her and his own tortured gaze softened. He wiped her tears away and pulled her head to his chest again.

"Don't be afraid, little one. Don't be sad. I'm not angry with you. You're one of the most capable people I've ever met. I'm proud of you and I know you'll do great things. In fact, you had better do them. Poor reflection on your school and your Ministry if you don't."

Hermione chuckled and continued cuddling into him. After a moment she said, "I love it when you call me that. It makes me feel loved, protected, and safe."

"That's because you are," he said softly into her hair. "Though you're about to venture beyond my ability to protect you, which I...despise," he growled out. "I expect you to favor common sense and practical defense above idiotic Gryffindor bravado, Hermione. To be vigilant and not trust too readily, but also to listen to the ones you do trust who are there to keep you safe."

"I promise, Severus. The road goes ever on and on and all that, but the road home leads to you, and I fully intend to make it back." Hermione saw that his eyes were now darker and glittering. "I expect you to do your great things as well, you know. You've already done so many of them this year: set up guest lecturers, restructured the combination of houses in classes, equalized and enforced ant-bullying measures, and half a dozen other things to curb house rivalries. I know you have more grand plans...do them...and I'll marvel when I come back."

Severus returned her small smile. Hermione turned serious again and begged one more promise from him. "Severus, tell me you'll not hole yourself up in your office alone. That you'll see Kingsley and the boys when they come by and spend time with them. I can't bear the thought...I won't be able to make myself go if you don't...if I can't..." Hermione stuttered to a stop, tense and distraught.

"Hush, little one. I won't abandon what you've made possible just because you're not here," Severus said. "I won't promise I'll always be pleasant about it, however."

Hermione didn't say anything about the misery he expected, but made a joke instead. She smirked. "You...be pleasant all the time? If I hear that, I'll suspect something's wrong with you."

"Impertinent," he said.

"Yup," she admitted. "But you love me."

He raised an eyebrow at her but then conceded, "I do."

"Severus?" she asked.

"Hermione," he answered.

"I don't expect you to put your life on hold for me. If someone comes along who is better for you, I love you enough to want that for you...I'll understand."

He looked at her almost angrily. "I suppose that makes me selfish is I don't return the sentiment?"

Hermione shook her head with a smile. He must have read her worry at the thought she'd just voiced. "Your self-sacrificial nature amazes me sometimes, Hermione," he said, brushing a strand of hair out of her face. "Sometimes you're cunning and conniving enough to have me almost convinced you'd make a good snake, except that you're too fierce and protective a lioness to be wholly convincing. You're definitely bright and logical enough to be an eagle, but you also almost convince me to laud the badger. I've never been the subject of such love and loyalty to have appreciated their virtue so well as I do now. You're the best of all of us, and I've never met your like in my nearly forty years. It's you I think of as I try to amalgamate the houses into unity, little one. There's no easy cure for my need of you; do not think on it."

"You're not making it any easier to leave," Hermione sniffled. "Are you being so wonderful in an attempt to get me to stay?"

Severus gave a derisive huff. "I was, for once, simply being honest," he admitted.

"I love you," Hermione repeated, smoothing her fingers across his face and lips.

"And I could almost think there was a deity smiling on me for that fact," he said, capturing her hand and kissing it.

"Maybe there is," Hermione said. "Watching over all of us and smiling on us both. I've begun to wonder myself." She couldn't quite read the look on his face though she tried for a few moments. "Kiss me?" she finally asked, breathlessly.

Severus went still. "Will that make it easier or harder tomorrow?"

Hermione deliberated for a moment. "I don't know," she answered finally. "Either way...please?"

His dark eyes softened again, in the way that always amazed her and she knew no one but she ever saw. And kiss her he did, pouring every bit of love and longing into the overwhelming, exploring contact between them. Hermione tasted bliss and savored it, knowing the memory of it would have to carry her through.


	21. Until We Meet Again

CHAPTER 21: Until We Meet Again

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 **** I don't own these characters or the stories they belong to ****

* * *

"Her absence is like the sky, spread over everything."

C.S. Lewis - A Grief Observed

s~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Severus exercised caution, despite his excitement, as he unfolded the parchment and small bag from the leg of the dark, medium-sized, predatory bird that gripped the back of the kitchen chair. He'd passed nearly a week of miserable days awaiting a note from Hermione. Sitting in his home, alone, miserable and dwelling on her absence was not 'holing himself away' _precisely_ , he reasoned, and therefore, he was not breaking his promise to her...exactly. And now his hope was renewed with the arrival of the fierce-looking bird. Deciding that he would like to keep his fingers, Severus offered the hawk-like creature meat by plate instead of by hand, then hastily sat in a nearby chair, unrolled the scroll and began to read.

" _July 10, 1999_

 _Dear Severus,_

 _I miss you terribly. In effort to cope, I've jumped in headlong. Staying busy has lessened my anxiety and kept me somewhat functional. I hope that you're doing well and that Crookshanks is taking good care of you. It's everything I can do to stay here and not come check on you...and curl into your arms. Unfortunately that wish is only gratified in my pleasant dreams for now. I love you and I miss you, and only remembrance of why I took this on in the first place keeps me on course. Accordingly, I am endeavoring to make the most of it – which is relatively easy to do. It would take someone more broken than me to not be fascinated by the foreign and wonderful things that surround._

 _The magnificent kite who brought you my letter and gifts is named Teju. It's an Indian word that means 'pleasant,' and that is what he is. I've no doubt he could use his deadly-looking talons and beak to perilous effect if he were threatened, but he's incredibly sweet and gentle otherwise, and actually_ loves _to have his feathers stroked. He leans into it and looks as if he'd be purring if he were a cat. I got him here in Delhi, and the shopkeeper explained that he's hardy enough for long-distance trips, though he should rest 2-3 days between long trips, depending on the distance._ "

Severus looked up and saw Crookshanks and Teju checking each other out. He almost jumped up to forestall catastrophe until Crookshanks stretched and leaned against the bird and the fierce looking thing leaned back. Severus snorted. He supposed he should be thankful that Hermione's penchant for...exceptional pets didn't descend to Hagrid's level. Severus had grudgingly taken on Hermione's ugly half-kneazle cat when she departed. They were both grumpy at being left behind by their favorite witch and displayed their irritation freely with each other. Despite this, the beast frequently insisted on sitting in his lap. The look on his face read: 'I'm not happy with you right now, but my mistress instructed me to keep you company, and so I shall. Just try and stop me.' They were getting used to each other, but neither found the other an acceptable substitute.

When he was satisfied that Hermione's pets wouldn't maim or kill each other, Severus returned to the letter.

" _I wish you were with me and could see the things I've seen. I've spent several days diving into both the Muggle and Wizarding culture here and am excited to continue doing so for the next few days. Unfortunately, I am coming to think the Wizard's integration with sentient magical creatures is somewhat reflective of the caste system in this country. I'll be spending more time with them in the next few days and will find out then if my initial impressions are correct._

 _The Ministry members and magical community have been warm and kind for the most part, though attempting to hold a logical discussion that even approaches a philosophical issue can be quite trying. I never realized that the obvious assumption that two things which are contradictory cannot both be true at the same time was not a universal one. The 'everything goes and is equally true' philosophy is baffling to me and makes no sense. I'm sure that, logical as you are, you would find it the same. I suppose, in some ways, that explains their inconceivable number of deities._

 _There's been a bit of difficulty finding common ground in that sense, but the discussions have otherwise been productive and good. There is staggering poverty in the streets and an undercurrent of dark mystery and intrigue, but mostly I've noticed that it's colorful and vibrant. The food is rich and flavorful, and I love the music. When they sing and dance it is with joy and without reserve. I wonder if it would tempt you to join in as well?_

 _One of the most wonderful things has been the virtual anonymity in comparison. They are aware of our war, but only vaguely, in most cases, and though I frequently have to field questions, I face almost no personal assumptions, merely national ones. I can walk virtually unrecognized wherever I go. If it weren't for the discomfiting questions and the issues that drive my research I could almost consider this a holiday._

 _About the gifts...I have included letters and gifts for you, the boys, the Weasleys and some of the staff. They're in the bag that Teju brought, if you would be kind enough to dispense them for me. You'll find labels on everything. I hope you like the box I sent. It is for the letters I promise to send and fill it with. I got one just like it and hope you send enough to fill mine in return. Send Teju back in a couple of days with a return letter and the bag. I'm anxious to hear from you._

 _I tried the picture frame a couple of times, but you weren't there. The shifting time differences will make it a bit difficult to set up a schedule, I suppose. Maybe we can work it out for once a week? Will next Tuesday, 6 pm, your time work?_

 _Be well, Severus. If you are well, I can go on. I love you._

 _Yours,_

 _Hermione_ "

Severus traced his fingers around the words, 'I love you,' for a moment and set the letter aside. He opened the black, velvet drawstring pouch, looked inside and smiled to himself. It was another one of her weightless, undetectable extension charm bags.

Among the letters and gifts he retrieved from the bag was the dark, ornately carved box that she'd sent him. There was a note attached to it.

"' _Tenn' enomentielva' It's Tolkien elvish for 'until we meet again.' Fairly safe from guesswork, don't you think? H_ "

Severus tapped the box lightly with his wand and said the password. It opened with a quiet click. After re-reading the letter she'd sent a few times, he placed it in the green-silk lined box and closed the lid. He felt both better and worse, but overall better, he thought…maybe.

Whatever Hermione had said, the hours kissing her and holding her the night before her departure had made it harder to let her go, just as he'd known it would. It had burned her deeper into his soul and conscience and made the ripping away all the more injurious. At the time, he'd been powerless to look into her soft brown eyes and deny her request - it was what he'd wanted most in that moment anyhow - but he'd been paying the price for it since. She plagued his dreams and his thoughts, and though her letter brought back his longing, it also brought an air of her presence which calmed him. The words weren't nearly enough, however. Her absence was still everywhere he looked.

Her letter did give him impetus to get up and do something with himself. He didn't want to be left in the position of having nothing to tell her save, ' _I've done nothing except sit in my chair and miss you._ ' Nor did he want to give anyone else opening to report the same.

The day Severus received her first letter was the day he returned to Grimmauld Place and threw himself into the continuing renovations. As a bonus, the physical exertion gave him perspective; when he was busy, he didn't feel quite so abandoned and crippled. Also, he could collapse into his bed and fall to sleep while his thoughts of Hermione were pleasant and not tortuous.

Admittedly, his thoughts and moods concerning her swung up and down according to when she'd last sent a letter. He was glad that she was a good correspondent and endeavored to keep up lest her missives slowed.

About once a week they indulged in talking face to face via charmed 7S picture frames, but it was hard to see and not hold. Longing led to sad silences, and it was harder to pretend well-being with visual evidence to the contrary writ on one another's faces.

With the letters it was easier to pull off a normal tone. It was like having one of their usual debate-laden conversations, except on a bit of delay, plus hearing about all the admittedly interesting things she was seeing and learning. Her writing was vivid and descriptive; he could almost see and hear the way she looked as she 'talked' on the page.

Hermione's worldwide travels included not only visitation of foreign Wizarding culture but Muggle culture and sentient Magical creatures as well. As she went about solidifying and laying international ties, Hermione was getting quite the survey of ideologies, worldviews, international politics, and integration methodologies. Somehow, she even worked in undergraduate studies in Muggle statistics in the midst of it all. Severus found her comments and observations entertaining and thought provoking.

Kingsley obliged Severus by filling him in on the details of Hermione's travel plans and security measures and allowing input. He also shared him the ever growing mound of preliminary reports that Hermione regularly sent back.

Severus snorted. "I warned you, did I not?"

Kingsley grunted. "You didn't lie."

Despite his amusement, Severus did take mercy and offer his assistance in going through the reports. He much preferred the letters she sent, however.

The only thing that was a downside to her letters, though it wasn't really a downside, were the nearly unanswerable questions she posed him. The more she traveled, the more her thoughts and queries tended toward the philosophical. It's not that it wasn't interesting and thought provoking, because it was, but it sometimes necessitated more introspective thought than he was comfortable with, and he didn't exactly retain the upper hand in the debates. This was a novel predicament with anyone save Dumbledore, in which case unfavorable ground had mostly arisen from secrecy and lack of information. Never before had it occurred with a peer or former student. It made Severus feel as though he were standing on sketchy ground, which wasn't exactly comfortable.

In December, she wrote from the States.

" _I've not really thought about this before my travels, but how do you view truth?' she asked. "As fixed and absolute or as variable, different for each person?"_

 _There is less segregation of the Wizarding world according to blood status, and more integration with Muggle culture and technology here. (I suppose they gave up the idea of aristocracy a long time ago.) It really is a mixing pot, both among the Muggles and the Wizard-kind. Wiccan practice if observed (non-magically) by Muggles and influences what is called New-Age culture._

 _I don't think we realize in Wizard Britain (or even secular Muggle Britain) how influenced we are by the Judeo-Christian worldview - practicing or not. (Did you know that Ariana Dumbledore's epitaph comes from Matthew 6:21, and the Potters' from 1 Corinthians 15:26?) Much in Western culture is influenced by certain assumptions inherent in that worldview – things like reality is observable and knowable, truth is absolute, and the laws of nature are fixed. Wizards detect and manipulate things according to laws that Muggles have no awareness of – and though magic effects more than we fully understand, even we operate with the understanding that every effect has a cause. Not so in Eastern culture, which is making inroads here. The idea that my truth is my truth and yours is yours is putting down roots._

 _What do you think? Is truth absolute? If not, how do we operate without a measuring stick? If so, where does it come from?_ "

Severus thought long and hard about that one. In the end, he agreed with Hermione that truth must be absolute, otherwise it required you to make a claim that there was no absolute truth – to say in essence, ' _It's absolutely true that there's no absolute truth_ ,' which made no sense. He had no answer for _'where does it come from?_ ' however.

Severus shared the debates with Kingsley during their weekly meetings, and more than once the man said, "Glad she doesn't put all of that in her reports."

Severus saw the boys less frequently, but when he did see them, Harry took to asking what the question of the week was.

Hermione's questions kept his mind busy, but not busy enough. Neither did school duties, nor the cat, nor anything else. At all times he was aware of what had almost been within his grasp. It made it easy to maintain his formidable persona.

Severus declined the invitation to the Burrow for Christmas dinner. Hermione was disappointed when he declined an invitation to spend the holidays with her and her parents in Australia, but she seemed to understand, without him having to say so, that it would be worse it he saw her and had to let her go again. And so, Severus spent Christmas alone, at Hogwarts. He didn't listen to any Christmas music, he didn't indulge in infantile snow fights, he didn't go down to visit Hagrid. He did remember that he didn't like the holiday.

Fifteen days after Christmas, he was subjected to an unwelcome attempt at a party – for him. It was one more way he discovered how much difference Hermione's presence made in his life last year. She'd made things tolerable and even welcome that were otherwise the opposite. It was not a happy birthday revelation. His letter to Hermione brimmed with his displeasure.

" _January 9, 2000_

 _Hermione,_

 _If you think I cannot detect your manipulative hand in certain events, you are very much mistaken. Desist, witch, or I shall skin your cat._

 _Severus_

 _P.S. Enjoy New Zealand_ "

While her return letter was much lengthier, it did include this response:

" _I do believe that was the shortest letter you've ever sent. You must really be peeved at me._

 _Just so you know, you credit me too much for said event. I'll not apologize for my small hand in it. (See, I am getting better and am not afraid to argue with you and stand up for myself.) It saddens me to think that you found no pleasure in the small company of those who genuinely care for you and wish you well. Did you make no effort to accept the regard of your friends – and yes, they are your friends? You are worth the love and regard of those who know and respect you, and I have it on good authority that there was no attempt to put you in a broad spotlight. Therefore, I will dare to say this. Unless you make a better effort, I shall not desist, I shall redouble my efforts. If that does not motivate you, please consider that I took on this tour to prevent you from being put in the position of bearing the sole burden of my well-being. Make the most of life, Severus, and refrain from placing me in a reverse role._

 _I miss you. Please don't be angry at me._

 _Please don't skin my cat._ "

Severus sighed at that. He'd lost track of the score, but once more, the point went to Hermione. At least she never rubbed it in.

Severus began to get more involved in his plans and agendas as time went on. One of the only good things about having their world shaken up and nearly destroyed was that however traditional and un-accepting of change Wizarding Britain was, change was now easier to affect. Ancient Wizard knowledge and traditions had been guarded by the purebloods of their world, and though most of those remained convinced of their superiority, even they could see the necessity of sharing instead of hoarding that which they valued lest it be lost forever. Also, so many of them had crossed the line into atrocities that caused an outcry against them, so many had died, been imprisoned and been fined, that their monetary and political power was much subdued.

Many of the purebloods that remained were glad to be free of the monster that Riddle had revealed himself to be, and glad that however decimated, they were able, once more, to self-govern their lives and their properties. There was no shortage of those who hated him, called him traitor, and blamed them for their losses, but as Severus labored to restore dignity to his House and to preserve the wealth of knowledge and tradition they guarded, he gained more acceptance and cooperation here as well.

When the one year mark rolled around, it wasn't that Hermione's absence was more tolerable so much as Severus was no longer grasping at her like an impoverished child hoarding the only toy he'd ever had, nor driving all else away like a snarling, starving dog with a bone to guard. She too was changing and growing into herself, Severus was glad that Hermione continued to give him assurances that he remained sure in her love as she transitioned, and glad to see evidence of her healthier state. Even if it made her more ready to voice argument – more sure and formidable in debate.

The ongoing debate of the second year revolved around a topic that they had touched on the night before she left England. Severus had meant it figuratively when he said that her love for him was evidence of a deity smiling down on him. But in her travels, comparing, and searching, Hermione continued to consider the idea seriously. Apparently this was driven by how the war had turned out, improbably, in their favor.

" _I've run the arithmancy_ ," she wrote. " _There were so many things that could've gone wrong – things that if even minutely different or changed from the one out of a hundred variable outcomes, would have spelled disaster. Albus Dumbledore was a great man, and so are you, but even both of you together are not_ that _great. Even the mistakes came to rights. Statistically, it's nearly impossible that it all came about without someone much more powerful, omniscient and omnipresent than you Albus Dumbledore combined – by the magnitude of millions. Is it more logical to place faith in blind chance or in that which probability points to?_ "

Severus argued that too many bad things existed and had happened in this world for him to seriously consider that there was some benevolent being watching over it all.

Hermione rebutted by pointing out that if there is bad, then there is good, and if there are both, then there is a basis upon which to differentiate between the two, and that basis was a moral code that was universal to mankind, and the existence of a universal moral law implied and author. Therefore, Hermione surmised, the existence of bad/evil was a poor argument against a supreme being.

That set him to thinking about the specifics of conscience. Severus initially didn't think concede the kind of basic moral law she described, but she had plenty of examples from different cultures around the globe to back up her claim.

When he asked her where Riddle and various Death Eaters fell in this scheme, she asked if he thought it true that your conscience could be damaged to the extent that you ignored it. Severus had to look no farther than his own past to acknowledge this. His desire for power and importance had outstripped his conscience, and only the threat against Lily had awoken it within him again. He'd witnessed, time and again, the process of moral decay amongst his Death Eater brethren. The first step was buying into the re-definitions and rhetoric. Once you bought that, it was easier to ignore the value of human life, and once you'd devalued life, it was a progression of steps to becoming a heartless monster who reveled in death. After much thought and debate, Severus accepted her supposition of a universal moral law.

Then had come the harder questions, " _Who wrote the moral code and planted it in within us? What's the logical explanation for conscience and consciousness - where do they come from?_ "

Debating Hermione was not an easy undertaking. While Severus fully appreciated the fact that Hermione was no dunderhead, by the time the second year mark approached he'd come to the conclusion that a life with Hermione would never be short of unending questions and uncertain ground. He wasn't quite sure if he loved her in part because of it or in spite of it, but he knew he'd take it all, and he was ready for her to come home.

Severus made himself wait until June before he began to count down the days..


	22. Well Met

CHAPTER 22: Well Met

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 **** I don't own these characters or the stories they belong to****

* * *

"All men who live with any degree of serenity live by some assurance of grace."

Reinhold Niebuhr

* * *

"Anything yet?" Ron asked.

Harry shook his head. "Not really."

Ron moved off after awhile, but Harry continued to watch, as inconspicuously as possible, the two subjects in question. He had been sure that Hermione and Severus would latch on to each other as soon as they saw each other and had bet accordingly. So far, however, they hadn't done more than smile and nod at each other from across the crowd that had gathered to welcome Hermione home. Harry couldn't credit it. Severus had been in a right state not more than two days ago over Hermione's impending arrival, and Hermione's last few letters had been full of excitement over the prospect of seeing them (in general) and Severus (in particular). Either he'd misjudged the situation, which he didn't think he had, or Hermione had gained a prodigious amount of reserve. Yet the more Harry watched her, the more he thought he'd never seen her so relaxed and open.

"Playing it rather cool, aren't they?" George asked.

"Hmm," Harry agreed with a nod. He checked his watch. "If they don't get a move on, you'll be out of the running too. Your time frame's about up, and that leaves..."

"Kings," they said in unison.

They both looked at the man in question. His golden earring glinted in the light as he turned to look in their direction. There was the barest hint of smug amusement in the grin he gave them.

"Do you get the feeling…?" George started.

"That we've been had?" Harry finished. He looked between the bald-headed black man in colorful robes and the pale, dark-haired man in black robes. Severus was as inscrutable as ever. Actually, compared to the last six months or so, his unreadable blank-face was much more pronounced. This solidified the Up-to-Something theory.

H ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was a good thing the last two years had trained her to tolerate this sort of milling about with official types. Hermione looked across the swarm people and saw Harry and Ron glancing between her and Severus, who was across the room, with poorly concealed looks of confusion on their faces. She suppressed a laugh and answered the Ministry official who had just posed her a question. At least there were friends in this crowd…and Severus. But that would wait for later.

Every time she spotted the boys throwing confused glances their way Hermione applauded Severus' Slytherin sense of humor. She thought back to her conversation with him through the enchanted mirrors last night.

"I can't wait to see you, Severus. Tomorrow isn't soon enough," she told him.

Severus gave her a smirking grin. "My patience is worn thin as well, but I may have to discover more in the name of a good cause."

Hermione squinted at him. "What do you mean?"

"They have a bet going," he answered. "I overheard mention of it yesterday."

"And the bet entails?" she enquired.

"I think they are expecting something along the lines of our encounter at the club the night of the cure – and are laying wagers on how long it will take after your arrival for such to come to pass."

"Hmm," she pondered. "So we constrain ourselves to a nod and a smile, go about business as usual, and watch the ensuing confusion? I like it. Except that I'll have to wait longer to see you," she complained.

"Hermione, when I see you…I'd like to see you without having to share you," Severus told her. The heat in his dark eyes set her heart to racing, and his next words only added to this. "Can I take you out to dinner tomorrow evening?"

"Yes," she answered.

This plan both increased her anticipation and gave her the patience necessary to enact their ruse. It was proving most amusing.

When the party began to wind down, she left with the boys, hiding her laughter at their confused sideways glances and at the Minister's befuddlement as he twisted his head around to find Severus ensconced in conversation and not leaving with them. She had a fun few hours at Grimmauld Place, truly enjoying the company of her best friends. Hermione was happy to see George doing better than she'd expected, and Harry and Ron doing well and so thrilled to have recently finished Auror training, but as the time drew near to get ready for her date with Severus, anticipation began to ruffle her serenity.

S ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Only his vast experience as a spy and double agent kept Severus from giving himself away. Hermione had done admirably as well - circumspect enough in her greeting and deportment that Kingsley and the boys were at a complete loss. It was harder to keep the inscrutable mask up to hide his longing and his desire to laugh than it had ever been before.

That's what Hermione had done to him, mangled his guard, thrust friendships upon him, and opened him up in general, and when Severus thought about it, he knew he'd always owe her for her loving tenacity. It was still disconcerting to realize how soft he'd gone in the process.

He felt not unlike a puddle the moment he saw her. Other than their short greeting, he'd tracked her in his peripheral vision - had been aware of her the entire time. It wasn't nearly enough.

Conversations with her by enchanted mirror and written word ill prepared him. She was relaxed and sure of her place. That was the best way to describe it. The intelligence, cunning, curiosity and stubborn tenacity were there - easy to see for those who had the wit to see, or he suspected, the misfortune to incite her - but they existed beneath a pervading calm and easy grace. He was glad to see it, but almost gob smacked by the difference as well. She was compelling, even more beautiful than he remembered, and all the more formidable for it.

The worst part of this whole ruse was not being by her side to keep all other men at bay. He'd underestimated that entirely. Hermione handled herself quite well, however, and Kingsley and the boys were also of aid in this regard..

In the face of such obvious reminders of how truly amazing Hermione was and how the world and the men in it lay at her feet, Severus was forced to stamp down old insecurities.

It took every measure of the ease and acceptance that he'd gained to keep his nerves under wraps as he readied for their date.

H ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

As the predetermined time for their date approached, Hermione snuck down the stairs and into the quiet sitting room. Harry caught her before she gained the floo.

"You look nice," He said from a shadowed doorway.

Hermione jumped a little and then tried to act as if she hadn't by smoothing down her long, summer skirt. It only made Harry smile. "Um, thanks," she answered, smiling sheepishly in return.

"He found out about the bet, didn't he?"

Hermione laughed quietly and nodded with mischief in her eyes.

Harry shook his head. "Slytherin," he accused. "Will you be back tonight?"

Hermione blushed then shrugged a shoulder. "Dunno," she answered with a smile. "What was Kingsley's bet, by the way? I could hardly keep a straight face at his obvious disappointment."

"That you two would wait to come together till the end of the party and then leave together," Harry answered.

They laughed together.

Harry gave her a hug and kissed her on the head. "It's really good to have you home, Hermione. Go have fun." He tossed the floo powder in for her.

"Thanks, Harry," she told him, then called "Spinners End" and stepped into the green flames.

S ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

As soon as Hermione stepped through the fireplace, Severus looked into her warm brown eyes and time froze. He was assaulted by awe, nervous tension, and what he could only describe as joy as he took in the person he had missed beyond belief.

"Hermione," he said with an almost raspy voice. He walked to her and cupped her face in his hand. "I missed you."

"I missed you more," she said quietly.

Severus answered her smile with one of his own and shook his head, "Silly Gryffindor. Are you ready?"

"Yes. I'm famished. Feed me please," she answered.

And there she was, different but the same, and so easy to be with.

She took his arm and he took her to the same places they'd gone on their last date - the same restaurant, same meandering through Muggle streets, and a similar musical concert taken in from their tree platform on a warm summer's night. They talked about anything and everything and had a good laugh at Kingsley and the boys.

As they settled onto the tree platform, Hermione sitting between his legs and leaning against his chest, Severus was a jumble, completely at peace, yet completely unsettled and intoxicated with the woman in his arms at the same time.

After a couple of songs, he heard her quietly call, "Severus?"

They continued touching and skimming each other's hands and arms as he answered her. "Hermione."

She twisted around to see him better. "Am I still who you want?"

Severus momentarily thought of calling her a dunderhead but decided it was a fair question as it was one he wanted an answer to as well. "Always," he replied. "And you? Am I still who you want?"

"Always, Severus," she answered in kind. "We have both changed - for the better, I think - but that has not changed in the least. I've travelled the world and not encountered a single person I'm drawn to as I am to you. You are truly unique, a beautiful marvel in my eyes, Severus Snape. I love you." Her gaze was intense but there was also vulnerability.

Severus skimmed her jaw and neck lightly with his fingers, feeling overwhelmed with awe. "I love you," he replied, and he meant it, from the very depth of his being.

They savored the moment for a few heartbeats then she quirked an eyebrow and asked. "Are you deliberately teasing me with your touch, then?"

Heat and humor flashed through him. He avoided the honest answer, ' _You undo me and I cannot keep my hands off of you_ ,' and opted for, "Why? Is it working?"

"Yes," she almost growled. "You are driving me crazy. Kiss me?"

"Will it make it better or worse?" he asked in a parody of the last time she'd begged a kiss.

"Better. Definitely better." She barely finished saying this before he leaned in toward her. Severus stopped just before his lips met hers, and their breaths mingled as he lingered, attempting to gather some measure of control. The pause was, if anything, an incendiary tease. Within three seconds his breath hitched and sped, and his heart began racing fit to burst its cage. Severus forced himself to go slowly as he closed the distance and kissed her more thoroughly than all their previous kisses combined. This time, there was no desperation, only promise and fulfilled hope. It was like a hereforeto undiscovered country of bliss.

Off and on the skimming touches and kisses continued until, somehow, he wasn't exactly sure of the details as to how, they wound up back at Spinners End. At just about the point they were both shaking with it, Severus slowed and pulled away. He'd never felt so utterly out of control in his entire life.

Hermione looked at him in question.

After a moment of gathering himself, Severus caressed her cheek and said, "I mean to do honorably by you, Hermione."

Hermione gasped slightly and looked at him as if to divine his meaning. He saw awe enter her eyes the moment she correctly realized his intent. Hermione clasped his hand against her face and turned to kiss his palm. "I love you, Severus."

He didn't have words to express what her love and trust did to him. In the end, he settled for telling her, "And I love you, little one. Which is why you must go back to Grimmauld tonight."

She looked halfway between the angry kitten and a disappointed child as she looked at him with the same frustration he felt.

Severus chuckled. "None of that. Pouting will not work."

Hermione huffed a little and then looked mildly distraught as she steeled herself to go. Her understood. She'd been gone for two years, and the thought of parting again was almost unbearable.

"That either, though that's worse," he mumbled and drew her into a hug. "No looking sad and no tears. Go rest and I will see you tomorrow." It took everything Severus had to send her off, but he knew he'd never be able to sleep with her in the room next to his, he might even...well he was a man after all...subject to the same weaknesses as the rest. He led her gently to the fireplace and kissed her on the forehead. "Goodnight, Hermione. I love you."

"I'll never tire of hearing you say that," she said, clasping his hand. She then heaved a deep sigh, smiled at him, stole another kiss, and departed hastily by floo just before his resolve began to crumble.


	23. No Longer Ten Feet Under and Upside Down

CHAPTER 23: No Longer Ten Feet Under & Upside Down

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 **** I don't own these characters or the stories they belong to****

* * *

"If I could just see you, everything would be alright,  
If I'd see you, this darkness would turn to light.  
And I will walk on water; and you will catch me if I fall.  
And I will get lost into your eyes.  
I know everything will be alright."

Storm by Lifehouse

H~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Hermione paused in her work and watched Severus at his. He was taking advantage of the summer break to engage in personal research. The fascination and enthusiasm that lit his eyes as he swept his dark hair behind his left ear and continued reading made her smile. He was so absorbed that the world around him failed to register and by that fact alone, Hermione knew Severus trusted her. There were few around whom Severus lowered his guard to this extent. Seeing him like this, Hermione realized that Severus was every bit the passionate swot that she was, and she found it utterly endearing.

Long moments she watched him bending over his books and scribbling notes until, finally, he glanced up and noticed her regarding him with a fond smile. Momentary flashes of startlement and wariness flashed across his face before a slight blush colored his cheeks. It made her sad, seeing even a hint of the wariness that was a residual effect of lifelong abuse and ridicule. It was amazing, really, that he'd come so far and become as open as he had – amazing, also, that he'd relaxed enough to not sense her eyes upon him. Hermione wasn't sure if the pink tinge was due to his being caught unawares or to her frank regard, but it made her heart thump just a little harder and her smile widen just a bit more.

It was like a siren's call to her, the almost uncertain innocence yet burgeoning confidence she could see in Severus. Unable to resist, Hermione set aside her quill and parchments and walked quietly up to him. His dark eyes followed her progress, and when she reached him, she bent down to kiss him first on the forehead and then briefly on the mouth.

"I'm sorry," she told him, trailing her hands across his shoulders and chest. "I won't disturb you for long. I know you don't have much time for your projects anymore…but I just couldn't help myself," Hermione finished.

She almost melted at the smile Severus gave her. Especially when he grabbed her hand, pulled it to his mouth and kissed her palm, watching her intently all the while. ' _A lifetime of this_ ,' she thought, ' _Two lifetimes, even, would never be enough_.' It was times like this that almost overwhelmed Hermione – when thoughts encroached – of how close it had been, of how it had almost not been, of how close she had come to losing Severus before she'd ever known him or ever had him. Swamped with emotions, good and bad, and flooded with gratitude, Hermione burrowed her head into his neck and allowed Severus to scoop her into his lap. She held on for dear life, breathing him in deeply and reveling in the feel of the strong arms that wrapped around her.

"I love you, Severus," she told him, sounding almost small and lost.

Hermione felt his arms tighten and the kiss he placed to the top of her head in answer. The words didn't come easily, she knew, but after a pause, he offered them quietly. "I love you too, Hermione."

It was almost funny that as much surety and peace as she'd found in the last couple of years, Severus was able to undo her in this way. Belligerent, arrogant, and overconfident witches and wizards many nations over, she could handle with decorum and aplomb mostly intact. But such was the love and trust she bore him, and the sense of safety and home she found in his arms, that Severus Snape rendered her completely open, vulnerable and malleable with the least little effort. It was terrifying and wonderful, and most wonderful of all, it was reciprocated. Such an everyday yet profound miracle.

Severus offered conversation to return them both from the rushing tide of emotions. "I was impressed with your presentation yesterday. All of Wizard Britain owes you a debt of gratitude – again."

"It was just facts and statistics…and a few suggestions," Hermione smiled and replied. "They'd have been fools not to listen."

Severus huffed. "That's never stopped the august body of the Ministry of Magic from putting their idiocy on display before. And don't sell yourself short. You are a wise and gifted researcher."

She must have looked insufficiently persuaded for after a brief pause, Severus continued. "Yes, you outlined concise and irrefutable facts, but they were unpalatable ones – the magical population of Britain is dangerously low and in threat of dying out - and even so, you outlined a plan that satisfied every faction of our world. I don't know that that's ever been done before. You almost single-handedly ensured our continued free will while also ensuring a plan that, I think, will deal successfully with the problem – leaving one and all grateful. But for you, we'd have been forced into a detestable marriage law. Now there are incentives and breaks in place to benefit those of any blood status who marry and grow their families, as well as aids to those who start or grow their businesses. And just enough impending threat implied that if we don't rectify the situation by our own will and hands we will be forced in future with no one but ourselves to blame. I'm impressed, to tell the truth."

Hermione beamed at his praise. "That's almost the best grade you've ever given me," she teased.

Severus gave her a look that showed his exasperation. The less she related to him as a student, the better, in his book, she knew. Still, his eyebrow lifted in amusement and curiosity. "Almost?" He asked. "It's the lengthiest and most glowing that I recall."

"But not the best," rejoined with almost a straight face.

"No?" Severus asked, pretending not to have a clue. "And that distinction goes to?"

With a mischievous grin, Hermione said, "I recall a certain night at a club after I completed the cure. That was definitely the Best. Grade. Ever."

They both chuckled.

"Hmm, I would say this last feat was definitely on par, if for no other reason than the nightmare of what could have been. I concede your point and offer amendment. Do you accept?"

He sounded perfectly serious but Hermione delighted in his playfulness. "Yes, please," she answered.

Severus caused her breath to hitch when he drew close and paused with the same almost-but-not-quite that he'd employed the night of mention. And then…he threaded his hands into her hair and masterfully kissed her senseless.

S~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Severus walked through the Ministry atrium toward the lift, his mind half in the present and half replaying his time with Hermione the evening before. It was all he could do to not to walk about smiling like a goon, but when he caught the looks aimed his way by a group of nearby witches, the temptation to smile died a swift death. Obviously, the familiarity of his visits with the Minister over the last couple of years was not proof against _that sort_.

Severus ignored the fawning and maintained his fast pace and his scowl, which kept all but the most tenacious at bay. Relief reigned when he reached the sanctuary of the lift, but it was premature. When the lift stopped on Hermione's level, one of his admirers of the tenacious variety attempted (unsuccessfully) to latch on to him and, laughing off his acerbic cut, settled for hovering and following. Severus didn't groan out loud or hex her, but he wanted to.

When he reached Hermione's office, Severus paused at the doorway and the sight of Hermione pouring over whatever project obscured her desk flooded his awareness causing all else to fade for a moment. Peace, quiet joy, love and even hope filled him to overflowing. It was moments like this that firmed his resolve and settled his nerves. The mere sight of Hermione made everything alright. The adversarial thoughts that betimes interjected, ' _too young,' 'too Gryffindor,' 'too close,' 'too risky,' 'too good for you_ '...they were quieted by the sense of _just right_ that was gifted him in her presence.

Hermione looked up, at the chatter of his hanger-on, Severus realized. Her champagne-brown eyes took in his admirer first in confusion and then with amusement.

"Is it that time already?" she asked checking a nearby clock.

She did have the knack of completely losing track of time. It was just Hermione. Severus could already foresee a future of habitually fetching her home at the end of the workday. He hoped her face always lit up this way when she saw him, and that she always came to him so easily as she did now.

"Yes," he answered quietly and gave her a small smile.

Hermione clearly sensed his annoyance at the witch next to him. "Shall I save you, my Prince?" she teased.

His tone was absolutely deadpan in answer. "Please."

Hermione quirked an eyebrow as she flicked her wand and straightened the disaster area that was her desk.

"Thank you for escorting him to me, Lauren," Hermione said in what sounded like a pleasant dismissal. Her look, however, conveyed, for a moment, a clear warning. Lauren, apparently still deluded, made to protest - but it was utterly pointless.

Hermione turned her full attention to Severus. He pulled the quill from her makeshift bun, threaded his fingers through the soft waves and curls that tumbled loose, and gave her kiss that was warmer and far more public than he would have otherwise were it not tailored for their audience – who, thankfully, departed soon after.

"Interesting moniker," Severus told her when they began walking toward Kingsley's office. She'd never called him _My Prince_ before.

"Which you dubbed yourself," Hermione answered.

"It was a play on words," he grumped.

She smiled at him. "I'm aware. I did have another reason for using it, you know. Well, another-another, besides this one," she said nodding toward Kingsley's open door.

Severus was prevented asking what the deuce she was talking about when Kingsley greeted them both. As far as Severus knew, he, Hermione, and Shacklebolt were to floo to Grimmauld place for dinner about now. An important, not-to-be-delayed dinner as far as he was concerned. Hermione, though, appeared nervous and excited about something – something they knew about and he didn't – and he wished they'd spit it out, whatever it was.

It transpired that, in an effort to preserve what Wizard lineage they could, the Minister and certain other Ministry members were giving him the Prince title and properties. As opposed to the Ministry subsuming the several seeming extinct titles and properties, extensive research had been done, and if there was family of any degree that could be traced or tracked down, they were bequeathed in favor of continuance.

Generally speaking, Severus agreed and thought it a good move. But personally, it agitated him. What he would have given when attending Hogwarts to have been able to call himself Prince in truth – to have quieted his fellow Slytherins and gained their acceptance. But now…all it did was bring up old hurts…and stubbornness. He neither needed nor wanted what had been denied him by the family that had disowned his mother and left them no recourse or help when they had needed it.

Hermione, ever able to read him, grasped his hand. "Severus, they can't hurt you anymore." The concern in her eyes set his world to rights again, as did her half smile that followed. "And the best revenge is to live well."

Severus smirked at her almost Slytherin comment and squeezed her hand. _What did it matter, really, as long as he had her?_ When the three of them left Kingsley's office, he left as Severus Tobias Snape Prince, head of the Most Ancient and Noble House of Prince - a family of one. But not for long if he could help it.

H~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Hermione began to wonder if pressing Severus toward accepting what was his due had been for the best after all. Throughout dinner with the SevenS, Ginny, Kings, and her visiting parents, she picked up on Severus' unsettled, almost nervous state. Her own nerves began to rattle.

Wandering into the sitting room, Severus pulled her close and said, "I have a question to ask you."

Slightly worried, Hermione asked, "What is it, Severus?"

"What was the other-other reason?"

Hermione scrunched her face in confusion, said, "Huh?" and then, "Oh! The other-other reason for calling you, 'My Prince,' you mean?"

Severus, amused at her blush, nodded.

Hermione tried to tamp down her embarrassment as she answered. "It was something that crossed my mind at the night club that night."

It was Severus' turn to look confused.

She chuckled and continued. "There everyone was, trying to emulate some sort of tough, dark persona, and in you came, their effortless king, their glittering-eyed prince, radiating the power and beauty of the night and put them all to shame. You were quite beguiling that night, and remain so to me...My Prince.'

Severus looked gob-smacked and looked at her as if judging whether to take her seriously or not.

"Yes, that's really how I see you, Severus. You're beautiful to me. Body, heart and mind," she told him quietly.

Severus closed his eyes and shook his slightly bowed head. When his eyes opened, Hermione saw one of those open-souled, only-for-her looks that took her breath away.

"I...that wasn't really...I have another question," he told her quietly.

Never, excepting when apopleptic with anger, had she heard this man at a loss for words. Worried again, Hermione asked, "What is it Severus? Anything...whatever it is...just ask me."

"Marry me, little one?"

Hermione's eyes went from scrunched in concern to wide in surprise in an instant. When he dropped down on one knee and lifted a ring she'd never seen him reach for, she gasped and covered her mouth with her hands.

"Not because of the state of our world," he continued, "not because of Ministry incentives, not even because I tend toward jealous and possessive, or that I owe you my very life..."

Hermione dropped one of her hands and grinned at him fondly.

"...But because I love you utterly and to distraction and cannot bear to be apart from you even one moment more."

"Yes," she said. Awe-struck, happy tears flowed freely, and she was incapable of saying anything besides, "A million times, yes."

She heard clapping, whistling and cheering from their audience as Severus slid the ring on her finger and rose up to kiss her. They chuckled together and she turned in his embrace to share smiles with their friends - their family.

They basked in their circle of happiness. Ginny hugged her, a little teary eyed, and mouthed, ' _Wow_!' Hermione laughed and nodded in agreement.

When her Mum hugged her close, amidst the boys' congratulations to Severus, she heard Harry grumble about him setting the bar too high. She and her Mum laughed quietly. "I'm so happy for you, Sweetheart. And for him. So is your father."

"Thanks, Mum. I'm so glad I got you guys back," she said, finding it difficult to imagine being more happy than she was in this moment.

"Alright, Hermione?" Harry asked her. His smile acknowledged all that had been and all that could be.

Her smile was radiant. "Wonderful, actually."

Hermione knew that life was not perfect, easy, or even fair. It was life, after all, with its ups and downs, its joys and pains, a beautiful mess, and sometimes a terrible one too. They had all weathered a storm. It would always be a part of them, but they would make the best of it and help each other along. They would be grateful and build beauty, and everything would be alright.


	24. Epilogue

EPILOGUE

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 **** I don't own these characters or the stories they belong to ****

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It's God that heals. Time only tells.

Beth Moore

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"Daddy?"

Severus looked down at his daughter, Aelia. Their little sunbeam was three years old, brilliant, inquisitive, playful, and happy. She was a copy of Hermione and she owned his heart just as surely as her mother did.

"Yes, Sunshine?"

Warm brown eyes looked back toward the bungalows and the figure reclining in the chair shaded by palm trees in the distance. "Will Mamma come to da party?"

"Yes, Sweetheart. She just needed a nap before everyone gets here." he answered.

Aelia looked at her Gramma and Papaw Granger and began to quiz them on who would be there - Unca Hawwy, Aunt Ginny, James, Unca Won, Aunt Gabby, Unca George, Aunt Ang-ina, Fwed, Gamma Mowwy, Gwampa Awtur, Mr. Kings, Unca Biew, Aunt Fweur, Vic-tau, Aunt Dwomeda, Teddy, Aunt Minnie, Hag-id, Unca Nev-iew, Aunt Susan, Amy, Unca Fank, Aunt Awice, Aunt Yuna...

When she was assured that most of her favorite people would be there, Helen tried to convince her granddaughter that she needed a nap before the fun started. Aelia was not convinced. First she frowned, then seemed to decide on avoidance and bent to pick up another shell. Severus gave her a look, which she likewise ignored. The little imp gave him a brilliant smile and handed him her sea shell. Fighting back his own smile, Severus shook the sand off it then stuffed it in his already laden pocket.

Two shells later and Aelia began rubbing her eyes...then fussing when the sand from her hands got in them.

"Aelia, stop. Let me help you." Severus bent to cleanse the sand out of her eye. "Time for your nap too, Sunshine."

"Not sleepy," she whined.

"Hmm," he answered, picking her up. She pointed to a seagull and said she wanted to fly first. And so began the usual negotiations, part of which included being lifted to fly, ice cream was mentioned, and Gramma Helen promised to read a book.

Watching his daughter's brown curls toss and blow in the sea-breeze, Severus, as he frequently did, felt a twinge of regret for how he'd treated Hermione when she was young. Dan and Helen frequently noted how Aelia reminded them of Hermione when she was little. And his daughter- she was precious. If anyone dared to treat Aelia the way he'd done Hermione, Severus would throttle and hex them to within an inch of death. The irony was not lost on him. It was a constant reminder of how Hermione had changed his life. He barely recognized his old self anymore.

Before it had practically fallen in his lap, it was something he'd never allowed himself to dream or hope for: a wife he loved with all of his being, fatherhood, and friendship. It was all Hermione's doing. She was perfect - kind, brilliant, cunning with a hint of vengeful, loyal, beautiful, and one of the worst liars he'd ever seen. Severus would never understand how he'd been so blind that he'd never once spotted the potential in all the years he'd known her, or why he'd been unable to view her as anything but annoying. And that didn't even take into account Harry, who was now like a younger brother to him. It was a testament to the poisonous, blinding power of anger and bitterness.

Despite it all, she'd waded in and saved him - from death, from bitterness, from loneliness. She'd befriended him, forgiven him and loved him. And now...Severus had all he'd ever wanted. He was blessed and he was happy.

H~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Hermione watched her husband walk hand in hand with their daughter down the beach, followed by her parents who walked hand in hand behind them. Summer and Christmas hols frequently found them here, in Australia, where her parents had stayed. Never completely free of their notoriety back home, she and Severus were glad to have family away from Britain. Portkeys were easy enough, and there was a sense of freedom here.

This secluded beach, in particular, was one of their favorites. It was where they'd been married a mere week after their engagement, officiated by Kingsley and attended by the SevenS, Neville, Luna, their dates, her parents, some of the Hogwarts staff and the Weasleys. Here, they'd spent the remainder of their summer on honeymoon until Hogwarts term resumed (excepting trips to their friend's weddings), and here they returned at least once a year. They were pretty sure this is where both of their children had been conceived as well. It was a good place for them.

Hermione smiled and contemplated Severus as the sound of little girl squeals and laughter replaced Aelia's brief stint of whinging. Who'd have envisaged, years ago, that the dreaded Potion's Master, Severus Snape would become such a wonderful father, son-in-law, friend, husband and lover - master of maneuvering his women-folk into pleasant moods and indulging them into happiness?

Often Hermione thought back to those who had come before: his mother, Lily, even Minerva, Albus and others that had known him. How had they missed the wonder of who he was? Love and acceptance, respect and letting him know he was important to you were the simple keys to his heart. Basic things, yet so few had offered them.

Not for the first time, she pondered if all that was so wonderful about him would have remained without the hardships he'd endured - just as with Harry. Hermione could easily see Harry, indulged by James and Sirius becoming a prat instead of the humble, courageous, selfless and loving person that he was. Similarly, what would Severus, with his prodigious brain and skill and proclivity for the dark have become without Lily's love and friendship as his sole lifeline? Would more love and less hurt have moulded him into remarkable man he was now? How much of that man was forged by the difficult road he'd walked in life, and how much was who he'd been all along?

Impossible and pointless questions. As much as Hermione wished she could wipe away the pain of the past, it was part of who they were, and it was impossible to remove one part without removing some of the most precious parts as well. Life was not perfect, but there was such beauty. It convinced her anew, every day, that there was One who guided and watched over them all - One able to take the most ugly, terrible things and renew them.

Just look at the evidence she had daily before her. Because of all the ugly that Severus had been through, he didn't trust easily, but when he did, he was unswervingly loyal, fiercely protective and gave without limit. More beautiful still, his love. It had been hidden for so long, but when Severus loved, it was deep...fathomless, even. And Merlin, was he observant, diligent and meticulous in all things. It still moved her to awe and tears sometimes.

Hermione smiled at the sight of her family ambling back toward her. Aelia was tilting her head back and forth as she sang from her perch on her father's shoulders, and Severus laughed suddenly at something her father said. Beauty and new life from ashes - it was everywhere she looked.

The trick was remembering to open your eyes. That's why these getaways were so good for their family. When life got busy and filled with routine, it allowed them to slow down and contemplate the changes in their lives - not so as to dwell in the past, but to reflect and realize the wonder of all they had. Gratitude - it was a potent remedy for malcontent, and the strongest preventative against taking each other for granted that she knew of.

When they returned from their short walk, Severus gazed at her with that look as their daughter regaled her with tales of her little adventure. Hermione listened patiently then brushed back fuzzy brown curls and kissed her daughter's head.

"Go with Gramma and Papaw for your nap, and we'll see you later, Sunshine," Severus instructed their daughter.

Aelia looked mutinous for a moment until she spotted her father's implacable, commanding expression, then heaved a huge sigh and took her Gramma's hand. Hermione smiled at her Mum in thanks.

Did you promise her ice cream again?" Hermione asked him.

Severus attempted not to look chagrined. "I may have agreed to ice cream."

Hermione chuckled and shook her head. "You spoil her too much. What are you going to do when she gets to Hogwarts and expects a bribe for everything she's asked to do?"

"Retire," Severus answered as he maneuvered himself into the chair with her.

Hermione shook her head again. "It's forbidden. You enjoy your job too much."

It was a surprising thing, but it was true - so long as he delegated the nonsense, as he called it, and Minerva, Filius, Poppy, Pamona and Hagrid stayed exactly where they were. Thankfully, they all seemed healthy and content.

"You mean to keep me there, herding the next lot of Potters and Weasleys?" he asked.

Hermione laughed. "And Lupin, yes. And you know you're looking forward to it."

"And shaking in terror," he groused. She smiled and sighed as he wrapped his arms around her from behind and placed his hands on her six months round belly. He felt awash in awe and contentment in the perfection of the moment - lying in the shade with his love, listening to the sound of the ocean, feeling the movements of their unborn child beneath his hands.

"Happy Anniversary, Hermione," he whispered in her ear. "These have been the best five years of my life, and I love you beyond words."

Hermione turned in his arms and looked up at Severus with misty eyes and a happy smile. She knew what he meant. There were no words for how much she loved this man. She returned the words, but she also held him close and put everything she felt into the kiss she gave him.

When Severus looked at her with his dark, un-guarded eyes, Hermione knew love and happiness. In his eyes, she saw her little bit of heaven, the promise of the Far Off Country they'd talked about so long ago. It was true, they lived in a broken world full of broken, fallible people...but life was beautiful, and the best was yet to come.

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 **A/N: I'm in the process of making a few edits to fix things I didn't catch the first time around and wanted to take the opportunity to say wow and thank you! I know this story hasn't had many hits, but I am blown away and thankful for your reviews! If it made even one person think, laugh, cry, or enjoy it, it was worth writing. Thanks a million for your encouraging words!**


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